the meanness of houses

small streets with small eyes

doors that hiss closed with 
Contempt and despise

large minded strangers who
Lack small town heads
tis the sparseness of grass

tis the hardness of beds

the narrowing of lanes where
wild sheep herd the wind
tis the gates with their gossip
the secrets and sin

tis church with its preacher
the grudged wave of hand
and only the born here will

quite understand