Saturday, November 11, 2006

No Liberty


As rising wind bent supple limb

I turned quick, the tree gave

a short sharp sigh



No liberty have I this house

though here do I presume

this porch



Ominous thunder unrelenting

from mounting summer storm

lacing heavy falling rain

through twisting maple leaves



I would have shut the windows

to the rain but no liberty

have I this house



What majesty this house does

hold, full and frail

replete and torn

it whispers soft kept secrets



The rain now just a gossamer

veil, a black cat sits expectantly

just inside the closed glass

doors, mute requests for food

or a scratch behind the ears



Yet I cannot oblige

I have no liberty this house



The Siamese guardian returns,

dry, no worse for the sudden storm

complaining in haughty cat fashion

that I should either feed or

leave, my choice, but please decide.