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Saturday, 31 May 2014

Mole Creek, Hobbit Cottage 2

Last night, the fire would not draw.
An unexpected puff of smoke
issued from the vent like a spectre,
and we pressed together
under a quilt.
So, this is what quality is!
Substance, endurance.
I have never felt its Protestant assurance
before.
Nothing in our house was ever so heavy, so wrought.
Even the chairs that have lived with me
for fifty-seven years
do not have this weight.
(They now sit outside my back door).

No one would ever dare leave these chairs
in the weather!
So, that is why they believe in such a practical God-
unruffled, predictable;
a quality God with exquisite joins.
Even the ghosts here are tangible:
they thump up and down the roof
in the night,
or get down our throats
and make us cough.

Oh! I never felt the world so solid!
Even the birds seem to know their place,
chattering away in polite accents;
reading from King James.

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