Sunday, December 23, 2012

Our houses

Our Houses

When we enter the unknown
of our houses,
go inside the given up dark
and sheltering walls alone
and turn out the lamps
we fall bone to bone in bed.
Neighbors, the old woman who knows you
turns over in me
and I wake up
another country. There's no more
north and south.
Asleep, we pass through one another
like blowing snow,
all of us,

--Linda Hogan


Rebecca Clayton said...

wow. Beautiful.

Steve Reed said...

I love "we fall bone to bone in bed." Sounds like all the people who populate our dreams. That's how I interpret it, anyway!

Reya Mellicker said...

For me, this poem expresses far better than I did in my post, what last weekend was like. I'm in awe.

Merry Christmas, you two!

Meri said...

Beautiful poem. And nice ornament atop the street lamp.