This House
Rebecca Iaciofano
Johnny Jump Ups
Robin Robinson
It’s simple and plain,
nestled up here on a hilltop in Maine.
Our dog finds a mouse
every couple of days
Our cats are too good for that, set in their ways.
No neighbors in sight
In these woods we’re well hid-
independent from power lines;
unleashed from the grid.
The luminous light
Mother Nature provides
powers our home and helps warm the insides.
Our woodstove, our sink,
counter, windows, and door
all secondhand purchases,
not from the store.
Well water we drink,
deliciously sweet-
ingeniously piped through the woodstove to heat.
But this house has its quirks
and it can frustrate.
The floor is uneven; the door isn’t straight.
Not everything works
as well as it should
and bitter cold winter means hauling in wood.
Our panels snow-covered,
I’ll have to go sweep
when the flurries desist- and I must feed the sheep.
Wool coats keep them warm
Yet they constantly bleat-
I love doing chores when I can’t feel my feet.
I awake with the dawn
every once in a while,
pink-orange sunrise induces a smile.
With a long, sleepy yawn
I forgive this place,
for though it’s not perfect, it has perfect grace.
Rebecca Iaciofano is an English major at the University of Maine, Augusta. She lives in Hallowell.
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