Invisible Houses (May 1972)
We carry, each, our house upon our back -
As does the snail - but it's invisible,
More like an extra skin, an atmosphere,
Perhaps a fragrance. We are recognised
As much by it as by our face and form,
And every day we live we are building it.
Some build a house as fresh and welcoming
As is a summer garden; some a cell
Bare and ascetic as a hermit's cave;
Others are locked in dungeons dark and foul
Fettered by care, their heavy chains self-made.
We carry, each, our house upon our back
And day by day we build it, brick by brick.
Meg Rugg-Easey May 1972