The House with No Roof
Your house has no roof.
The rain can come in.
The sun can blister your skin.
There is no place to hide from the sun and the moon,
from the songbirds and crows.
Your life is left
and yet you have found it a better home
than the houses you occupied in the past,
locked in dark rooms
afraid of the light.
About this poem
The other day, while sitting in a diner, I had someone come up to me who reads this blog, someone I did not know. But they knew me well it seems, through my writing. It was an odd thing, to be so well known by a person I did not know. It was strange, unsettling and good at the same time.
I suppose other, more famous authors have come to grips with that oddness. Me? I’m still pondering on it.
The joys of being a slow processor.
PS – The picture was taken a couple of years ago in Harper’s Ferry, WV.