my cabin . - - first night

wood and shadowy cracks
dusty corners with cobwebs
across the walls ---
bare bulb lighting in the
hot kitchen
as my pasta cooks, tea steams,
and sweat drips ---
but the cabin is warm
cozy and talkative
creaking with the stories of Time ---
inscriptions on the wall
telling lines of tales
plots of mysteries
heroics of the forgotten age ---
and I sit back
in this beige couch, relaxed
placing thoughts on the
wind, the wood, the valley
my new home.