House poetry: 'Protecting Solitude'

I live in a house
of transparent adobe
that you cannot see
and you cannot touch.

Just try to come knocking
on my door sometime
when you are drawn
by the music and the light.

You will not hear doorbells ring
though you may hear
the barking of a dog.

I will answer through a metal grate
and we will both be fooled into thinking
you will be entering soon.

You will not.

Instead, the walls will begin to expand
until you are gently pushed off the front porch
and by the time you are standing on the sidewalk
you will have forgotten why you came.

— Kathy Price-Robinson