Houses (After Cavafy)

We believe we own them but
In the evening of a street not a soul will be found.
Only a few stars shuffling in the oily sky and
Orange trees for neighbours.
Here, they've lain huddled in December waiting
For Christmas to rock them on its pinewood floors
And in blue afternoons
You can see them drowsing in the barber sun.

Relentlessly, a dream has hemmed me in these hills
While the future has cast me as a bleak interpreter of signs.
And so many things to finish
That I did not pay any attention to their birth,
There were no labour pains,
And they have shut me off from their hearths.

by Robin S Ngangom

Comments (2)

I'm back! ! ! My name was hellp because my mother found my poems and back tehn i had poems that were alot more intense. about suicide, religion, and sex. My mom banned me from the site and made me delet all my poems. (my mom and family r VERY strong christians) i changed my name and deleted only some of my poems. My name was hellp cuz i felt like i was in hell and i REALLY needed help. i was so scared. I'v never been on the website for years and then i got an email today that sed i hada comment on one of my poems...i read all of the commments i missed and it totally inspired me to continue my poetry. I changed my name and i will try 2 pick up where i left off...i havn't written poetry since i got caught...thankyou so much for ur support
nice nom de guerre. Jake