The New House
By Poetry Issue 119
First rain in the new house—
walls passed inspection, but
who knows? It’s hard to trust
in bricks. Aren’t they just cut-up
mud, lashed now by spray
from clotted gutters?
First rain in the new house—
walls passed inspection, but
who knows? It’s hard to trust
in bricks. Aren’t they just cut-up
mud, lashed now by spray
from clotted gutters?