Housesitting atop the hill
And deep in the woods,
A stone's throw
From the mountain
My grandparents called home.
It's good to be back
Among the ghosts
Of those who've gone before,
To hear again
The sounds of the earth mother
Who never really sleeps,
And remember youthful days
When we would come
From far away
To visit.
There are more houses now,
And more traffic,
But up here in the trees
They seem so far away,
And I can bask, naked, 
In the hot tub
Under the stars of Father Sky
With nary a worry
Upon my mind.