" The Yard by Neha"
That make my roof the arena of their loves,
That gyre about the gable all day long
And fill the chimneys with their murmurous song:
Our house, they say; and mine, the cat declares
And spreads his golden fleece upon the chairs;
And mine the dog, and rises stiff with wrath
If any alien foot profane the path.
So, too, the buck that trimmed my terraces,
Our whilom gardener, called the garden his;
Who now, deposed, surveys my plain abode
And his late kingdom, only from the road.
-Robert Louis Stevenson
Saw Katherine Hepburn recite this beautiful poem in the 1946 movie "Undercurrent" talking about futility of how we cling to things in this life as "my this", "my that" when we are nothing but temporary owners..worth meditating over.
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