I don't own.
I rent.
This house,
for instance,
is not mine,
nor is this sunshine
warming my face
as I stand in the yard
facing west.
My neighbors
own their houses
but I don't own mine.
The wife
flying in
at 4
is not mine
but someone else's
-she's mine for the day-
like the car
she'll rent.
And this card
I'm reading
in my friend's house
is not
from my daughter
but his:
This touching testimony
of love
for a father
was not meant for me
yet here I stand
reading it
renting it
learning
in my renter's way
what it is like
to be a father
to live in a house
to have a wife
to have one's face
warmed
by the light
of the
rented sun
in one's rented yard
in one's rented life.
Percy Dovetonsils
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rent-7/
