The House That Is Built

A house that is built
is a lonely place
Four walls and a roof
and you alone in it
Circling the eye takes in the rooms
Each room has four corners in it
Yeats went up a tower mumbling
his rhymes about the turning gyres
Wind sweeps here too
But the air is must with seven centuries
The windows don't shut
And let in the rain.


Previous | Next | Contents | Selected Poems

Home | Webmaster

1