[stylist] Poem: "Hope House"

[William L Houts]

HI Fellow Blinks,

Here's a poem I wrote just a little earlier this year, and it's now one 
of my favorites. I offer it, gladly, for your inspection.  The poem 
follows below the three dashes under my signoff.


--Bill


---


Hope House

copyright 2016 William L. Houts

United States of America

All Rights Reserved

my smile is secret as bees in their cells,

as I work at the craft,Society hums it's hymn, while NPR

keeps the beat for us.

my brother brews coffee, far south aromas

enchanting the air.Debbie, my sister, feeds the cats,

and enlightened for seconds I say,

what triumphit is, this morning, rumpled and common,

and nearly unbearably free.

It's a bright sort of btoil, mining our plain lives

for soul gold, the bullion of heart and hand.

We're short of dollars some months, yet mostly prevail,

by coffee, and cash loans, and mostly unspoken, god.

We're not the Waltons, but often enough Mom and I

have dinner together without saying much, yet whole in our silence.

Outside is a locust machine which shits

and devours, and we faithfully feed it, like everyone else,

but we trump it with love and laundry, and jokes and yelling,

and feeding the cats.I I'm noone's high prophet

yet, I offer, There will come no wrathful collapse:

something is hatching, and we are the hen.


-- 


"It's clever, but does it answer the Sphinx?"