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Habitation
Marriage is not a house or even a tent it is before that, and colder: the edge of the forest, the edge of the desert the unpainted stairs at the back where we squat outside, eating popcorn the edge of the receding glacier where painfully and with wonder at having survived even this far we are learning to make fire Margaret Atwood Related Articles: Heart, We Will Forget Him He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven I carry your heart with me I Held a Jewel I Love Thee I Many Times Thought I Never Lost As Much I Sing  To our knowledge this poem is in the public domain. If you believe we have infringed any copyright laws please contact us and the offending material will be removed immediately.  The poetry on this site is for entertainment purposes only. See Full Disclaimer for more information. |
