Palinode 11

Admitting the house is not
ours, but that it is watching us,

and we are well aware the sky is boisterous.

Uneven wind

     -Between buildings
     -Between the cracks in the walls
the way small pieces of it,
     blow like a flock
  rest
  then
I claim the righteous
snowflakes and tell them,
assuredly, they are not invited in my house.

They still come. I still let them.

The walls do not leave me.
Like wind, but cold:
  -Bricks with no putty
  -All the tiny creatures that invade that house.