Skip to content

Cabin

March 26, 2013

It is the difference between

The stale, settled smell of the vacation cabin

Of the inanimate, waiting

The hanging china answering with a gentle clatter

To the tremble of homecoming,

We are also just here, until someone moves us, too.

Like the ratty throw, exactly where it was last winter

We are doors, meant to be knocked at

And homes to be lived in.

Our life’s work is loving. Inside our vocation cabin

It is the difference between lifeless and

That ghost of a scent of habitation:

The heart that goes to bed

With a small fire burning.

Advertisements

From → Uncategorized

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: