Thank you, Alondra, for the Barnabas Portrait!

 There is a house that I know I have never seen,

Yet there are times when I remember-

Having gazed from its small-paned windows-- wide,

On a sea summer-green and a fierce, wild tide,

Climbing stern, grey crags in November.

There is a portrait, age-umbered, that I loved on its walls;

Like a breath on a darkening ember,

There breathes on me the echoing theme

Of soft footfalls, dark floors that gleam;

And voices, almost familiar, that seem

To be calling me back from some lingering dream,

"Remember . . .  Remember . . .  Remember?"

                             ©Carolyn Bauman, 1966

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