Tuesday, February 26, 2013

You Are a House

You are a house
and I don’t know what I am but your door was open.
The floorboards creak a little but they look rich,
like real wood, which I didn’t know anyone still sold,
what with deforestation and other crisises
like global warming, or is it crises, anyway in here
the air breathes fresh and cool, like a breeze on a rock
at the edge of a battered shore
or the wind between trees.