Home

If love be not in the house there is nothing

-Ezra Pound

Today I get the keys
to my first house,
after so many years
of apartments. Behind
that newly open door
is a lot of nothing—city
unchanged, friends
and work the same
as ever. Rooms empty.
I don't have much love
to bring to this house
yet, I fear, but it is faith
to cross the threshold
anyway, trust that I'll be
met. I make an appeal
to springtime again,
air filling the emptiness
with lilac and birdsong,
as they will each year
in this new home. I am
not alone here.

Thanks for reading! This year I'm writing poems about moving into my first house and dealing with a lot of drama and evolution in this and other parts of my life. We'll see where it goes.