Kit Kelen #1375 - my roof

1375

my roof

is always gathering

electric

or the garden’s grateful

we are too

some days seems pointing

and morning’s still there

look outside to see

so many leaves fall for it

gutter takes the laddered glove

every window, door’s down from

who’s under it for influence?

has to be the head

it’s like a hat stood very still

for every indoor aspiration

rooster for direction

old antennae

if there’s lightning

must be thunder

say spire and awe

you church the thing

dust often

ceiling’s other side

say

tiptoe to

it has the heaven touch

and lick of paint perhaps 

held up by

four be two or three

and like a miracle

the rain

think of Fortunatus

and all the world’s let in

could sit up there

chew fat

and downpipe too

keeps off and in the heat

might fry an egg some days

but yuck

what’s your roof up to lately?

we say up stairs

but there are none

can’t watch them walking for a fix

spine tingles from far

lick of lichen

moss to match

often hear it ache and crack

that’s when a sun comes out

roof says

call it a top but never spins

it’s all the music under

anger or a curry blows

holds a chimney puttied

still tells smoke all towards

then these will be the clouds we make

no more gaps and fullafoam

with liquid nails sad truth

it’s patched

all under one

an idiom

you could call us tribe

it has an in-between

is how you hear things in the roof

though you won’t fit to chase

strewth!

you can fly a flag from yet

a tin scrape in my case

though night on the tiles

has been prescribed

and some would say uncouth

one day

falls in

and find the garden

a flourish in the dust