Ragged Mountain Byway

This old house once knew my children
This old house once knew my wife
This old house was home and comfort
As we fought the storms of life

A Truthful North

Winter is clattering at the back door.

Long worrisome hours of night falling on the skin.

Yet,

hold still.

Love is not lost.

Up on geriatric pallets.

Made of used nails and scraps of tin.

The world we know,

inhabited with dark necessities.

A truthful love.

A truthful north.

Knows no pity.