A Little Hut

A little hut,
To call my own,
To lock the door,
When troubles call,
Best left alone,
In inward motion,
I might smoke a cigarette,
Or drink a beer,
Regard my navel,
Clip my nails,
Or play a tune,
Tell myself,
It’s all OK,
Who needs the world,
When the world brings such troubles?
Then thoughts of you,
You beside me,
Your eyes in mine,
Deep, deep within me,
My heart in yours.
 
Walls flying,
Roof blasted,
To the very heavens above,
Blow my humbled dwelling apart.
‘Till nothing is left,
But the figure of a naked man, crouching,
And a soul that knows.
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