Homeworld
I used to write novels;
then I bought a house—
I used to kill antagonists;
today I killed a mouse.
I used to craft plotlines;
now I’m cutting boards—
I’m handy with chisel;
I used to wield swords.
I used to build worlds;
last month I built a shed—
now I’m crazy tired;
I used to wake the dead.
I used to sail on musings
and fashion lives unfound—
but since I bought a house,
I’m anchored to the ground.













