Barbara Peterson
Walking into my heart one day
Walking into my heart one day
through the vaulted arches
I met, round every corner
a clutter
All those who had gained an easy entry
were slipping in their friends
and filling it with litter
And further
in each chamber were some
shaking their fists at others
over notions of trespass
Even a squatter there so long
claiming protection of the law
Looking round,
one would think it a child's heart
filled with the collections
of idle days
crammed so full of others' souvenirs
you would hardly say it belonged to me at all
What a house-cleaning is needed
to prepare it for
a better caretaker
Page(s) 17
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