Talcfundi

Talcfundi likes to close windows.
When it rains outside
he shuts them tight.
He keeps the sun in a bottle
under his bed.
This is the time
he pulls out the cork.
He lets his prisoner slam
its body on wooden shutters.
When it snows, Talcfundi
shuts the windows even tighter.
Two rows of hinges
buckle into the world,
rust until spring.
Talcfundi is a weather-wise-man.
He’s got his private sun
and nothing can harm him.
He knows the advantages
of being at home.