Between sunlight and the leaves

is something that we call home

but not very confidently

even in the brightness of day,

weary not altogether well,

there is gratitude and nothing worth

complaining about,

our silence punctuated by bird calls

is nothing but solitude

which is the small house where we live

owners yes, but only tenants

in our temporary time on earth

where we live with a degree of doubt

almost at home.