Thursday, 29 July 2010

The belly of the catapult


Home is a wanderer’s desire
Or ever recurring nightmare.

Home is root and seed
And beginning and end
To every life story.

Home is mother’s love
And or father’s aura.

Home is a web or a blanket
Or a bank of fear or hope.

Home is the roof that separates
You and the hot, scorching sun.

Home is the belly of the catapult
And the stone’s final stop.

1 comment:

Fiona Leonard said...

reminds me of a family we met in Canada - had 22 children. Their washing line went for miles...

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