Sometimes the walls and windows of my house
Have been just that.
Four surfaces to keep the cold at bay
a pod with gas and water, light and heat:
A small spacecraft
Permanently in dock.
And outside trees grow and flowers bloom.

Just walls, just painted walls
A shelter - just prettier than a hut
and more expensive.
Rushes,l ino or **** pile
A candle , gas or leckie
And giant windows cannot mask the confinement.

The changing tree is home, the birds that come and go,
Sun that oozes, wind and battering rain.
Passing chatter and the train's distant hoot
Paper my walls and paint my doors
Light my ceilings and carpet my floors.