The Safe House

This house of lunar rock and willow bark
Sounds like trap-wounded wolfsong in the dark,
Tastes like unfiltered hornet honey,
Smells like burnt leaves, counterfeit money.

This house of mood-stone floor and stained glass
Says footprints fade and sharp grudges pass.
Is love a chess game, minefield, trapeze, a tether?
Have you a jacket for apocalypse weather?