My house

My house
Grows in the trees
With flowers and moss
On the roof
Chickens and geese
Live so near
I can hear them clucking
And hooting
In their dreams

The wind sighs
Through the branches
Rough pine bark
Is only a hands breadth
Away

Sap hangs like
Turpentine gemstone
Sticky on fingers
Sweet and biting in mouth

Linden grows just
Over there
Spade shaped leaves
Beside the apple tree

Silence and peace
Except for the crack
of the fire
And the creaks of the trees

I lived there so long
Now it’s just in my dreams
… And in my every cell
Somethings will never
Be far from me
Some beauties
Are just too deep

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.