Forty is when to build a house,
At least to write a poem.
To build a house you need a lot.
For poetry there is always room,
No matter if you squat
In a mansion or a ruin.
A poet is a nomad sort.
That’s why to let her roam,
Pitch her makeshift tent
In her choice of element,
Though she easily holds court
In the crannies of a home.