No house of straw, nor sticks, nor bricks
No build for current weather –
One made of pens and paper and
Some ink to hold together:
Now, come ye wolves and huff and puff
And blow, for all your wit
Featherweight home will waft away
And little pig with it.
Pig knew it couldn’t spare the pack
To help get them off the ground
Pig and the place it needs too much
To not be elseward bound:
So light with paper wings around
That bear it through the vast
It equals those who hover free
Of burden and of past.
August 11, 2023
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