Love Lives Here

A poem about isolationism

By the side of the road, I saw it At the entrance to somebody’s drive Stuck in the ground in the high grass A message to all who came near The first line seems terribly friendly “Love Lives Here”

How gracious if somebody crafted A sign out of wood and spare paint And posted it out by their driveway A sign of goodwill and good cheer A word to the weary, the wanderer “Love Lives Here”

But this sign wasn’t lovingly fashioned But born on an assembly line Plastic to weather the weather Bent metal turf spikes to spear Message made, ready to order “Love Lives Here”

Love’s all you need for the rest of us But this sign, it didn’t stop there It went on to list for whom love lives We were not on it I fear, God, family, friends, all were present “Love Lives Here”

The message continues its listing Love of country, community, fine I like the alliterative build-up But when there is build up, beware U.S. Constitution’s the kicker “Love Lives Here”

There’s something about this that niggles Although the list’s all well and fine Has anyone questioned its sentiment? Most all of us, too, love what’s there What need prompts the bold proclamation? “Love Lives Here”

My other concern is what’s missing, Where is the love for the world? It’s people, its natural wonders? Does only the U.S. rate care? The sign draws the line when it trumpets “Love Lives Here”

I guess one might pause to worry What people will think who pass by When they see their “Love” sign’s companion “Trump 2020”, that’s why The attempt to impress with the “L” word, While supporting malignance made man Put up what you like, it’s useless I fear Anyone who knows love knows it doesn’t live here

©2020, Denise Shelton. All rights reserved.

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