First thoughts on returning to town after settling the first of our belongings in the new house.
For years you were home to others,
Daughters and sons,
The way life runs.
Since time before electric light,
To chase the night,
Heat came from fire,
And from the byre.
White plaster walls not smooth and straight,
A rough plank gate,
Clay tiles, warm red,
My feet now tread.
Do you feel the change in your stones,
Your old house bones?
Mine feel right here,