Cave Woman (Poetry)

High up on a steep and rock-encrusted hill
its entrance sculpted narrow — part-concealed
by greenery that drapes a ragged veil
as camouflage — a weatherbeaten shield

A simple quiet haven carved by thought
and a desire for distance, time and space
a bubble or a fly in amber caught
excluded — no involvement in the race

Far off on the horizon plumes of smoke
are proof of others tending to their fire
they burn old culture — strain on freedom’s yoke
and add more bodies to the funeral pyre

The miles between untravelled — no one comes
except for Nature on her questing feet
the timid mouse — the honey bee that hums
those casual guests whose stay is short and sweet

It’s peaceful here — this cave I call my home
imagined dark and warm deep in my head
it well may be the last roof that I own
where none can trespass even when I’m dead