Confession

I want to be the sort of poet whose words build homes for people,

Who reaches agreement with granite and oak to come near—

Habitation is a restlessness among all things, homes require magic.

If possibly there was anything I could do

To give you warmth, well I’d do it.

In my world most things are hidden save for my heart.

One thought on “Confession

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Connecting to %s