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Based on Egon Schiele’s ‘The Border of the city, Krumau’.

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I fashioned a home from stones I found along the way-

those placed by the riverbeds

and collecting rainwater in emptied fountains.

those

in hollows atop mountains

and those

from the hatbox of my youth.

How humbling

fell the words of Ruth,

when once I witnessed from a parting in my private paradise,

a flood that tumbled my notions of permanence.

Packing pertinence into what a birch boat can carry,

I climb-

casting the beam of a house on my back

and the hope of home in my heart.

-Amy Struthers

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