Resting Place

It took a lifetime

to get here – to this little

brown house I call home.

Nestled among rolling hills,

tucked beneath tall pines,

sitting at water’s edge, it

rests. I know with all 

my being I don’t own this

small house and land. They own me.


 (With gratitude to all who helped make this dream a reality)

5 comments on “Resting Place

  1. Tiegan says:

    This makes me think about Aboriginal morals; how they don’t own the land. Nice poem!



  2. Beautifully delivered, Joan

    My best to You



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