Sturdy as a mountain
           Frail as a lonely soul

It stands rooted in a clearing,
Green nature keeping it's distance.

Nature gives up its cherished air,
The mud house takes it sparingly,
For it's nostrils can permit,
Only but a little.

An old mother lies on the thach
Buried in her huge thoughts
And with her little light
She finds a home in her mud house


© Sonia