Pamela Alexander

My house is a box
with a wheel at each corner.
I think of the earth underneath it
and conserve:

not too many miles a day,
no other house left behind
to heat or cool, or furnish.
All the lights LEDs;
the furnace sips
propane. Conserve: don’t

spend energy on what
might have been–

pots tucked into lockers, knives
in drawers, everything lashed
or bungeed, secure–

or worse, on what was.

Couch and table become
beds. Storage under,
over, clever, crafty.

Land-liner, piloted
toward better weather,
outer and inner,
wherever that may be.