(when looking for explanations)
i.
this house, not on a street
the letters in the mailbox are not mine
somewhere, in another house
amid tall, quivering rooftops
and calligraphy-stained walls
the air has turned cold
and the moon is asking questions
i am a foreigner in a broken land
ii.
the stones walk among themselves
and all the common constellations,
named and unnamed
as if saying their prayers on a
chorus of wind
the birds scatter
a light flickers above the doorstep
now and then it answers me
iii.
a traveler is stopped
seeking refuge beneath a
sleeping shrub
the birch tree remembers his name
in this light, the house is somehow
less credible
the sky is a portrait running over
even the stars have flat feet
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The Used Life 
Magnificent writing. A riveting poetic story.
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Thank you, Michele!
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“The sky is a portrait running over/ even the stars have flat feet…”, splendid stitching of words. Well done.
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Thank you so much!
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Wonderful! “even the stars have flat feet” -that is an excellent line.
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Thank you! I’m happy you liked it.
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The sketch is a perfect pairing with this poem. It adds a simple yet complex visual to the words. Wonderful.
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Thank you very much. It’s often great fun to try and match the visual and the verbal.
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Well written
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Thank you
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You’re always welcome
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This rocks. You’re doing some right decent work.
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Thank you very much!
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