The Saturday Poem

The House

Come and live, they said,
In the house of science
With its solid floor of sense,
Its tiled and timbered roof,
Its foursquare walls of proof.

But I chose instead
The house of poetry
Under its rowan tree,
Half ruin and half grave
With green grass like a wave,

Nettles and moss for bed,
And its people coming and
going
Like seeds the wind might
bring,
Like words in the wind's song,
Their tenancy not long.

by David Sutton