Between sunlight and the leaves
is something that we call home
but not very confidently
even in the brightness of day,
weary not altogether well,
there is gratitude and nothing worth
complaining about,
our silence punctuated by bird calls
is nothing but solitude
which is the small house where we live
owners yes, but only tenants
in our temporary time on earth
where we live with a degree of doubt
almost at home.