Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Second draft:

Water of Life

A house is nothing
more than dead wood
wrapped in plastic,
sitting on stone.

Life wants in
to mess around inside
the walls, eat it
from the ground up.

Mouldering wrecks of
used to be home
fall by the highway
side from one house

to another you run to
the porch keys
in hand to get in,
safe from the rain.

Safe as houses.

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