The Quoybirse stone blunders into the house

by Lydia Harris

lichen flaking like scabs,
base too narrow to balance its mass

though I pack it with beach boulders
it rocks, the house opens its heart

rumbles and the staircase
crashes through the floor tiles

jolts the foundations
the stone smashes my home with its grainy oozes

has lost all sense of direction
has never been seen like this

head in the stairwell, huffing damp belches
with the whiff of the first ocean’s  bubbles

and those spots on the road
where I worshipped  its beautiful tilt, empty spaces