Cabin
This small shack, a clearing,
As modern as a satellite dish,
As old as cedar clapboards,
It’s where I’d like to live.
No road in sight, only
A trail through these woods
With trees entwined around it
And bird calls from the forest.
I stand here, alone this day,
Upon the one patch of
Clear and snowless earth
Feeling the pulse of the planet.
Once, a tent and a tribe
Would have passed for civilization.
Now, in our clustered houses
We live our lives in isolation.
