Housing Scars Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Mountains everywhere I look, they sit upon my sight
cleverly finding their way into my heart.
Running my eyes up their majestic heights allows my
soul to calm evenly with silent nature.
Beauty of their rock formations reaches out to me,
enveloping my mind in a landscape of serenity.
Then I espy houses jutting on their sides, ugly,
having no business being there, blocking out God's
nature and the mountainous souls of their gestation.