Coming Home

Grass sprouts from the gutter
Purple flowers from the chimney
And lichen spreads across the tiles
As thick as the silence

Which on coming from the city
You take to be just that
Then animals rattle
Tinnitus into your ears

And after that the harvest
The farmers, the mosquitoes
And the Canada geese leaving
As I arrive, with a transit

Full of things I use to
Make my room less empty.