How can I go into the big house?
My boots are always muddy from my work.
I have a little cabin behind the barn.
That is my house.
My boots are always muddy. I go into the big
house and I have to scrub them on the doorstep
and I have to scrape them and leave the mud
of my work outside.
Inside they become angry because I track up
the carpet, and I take off my boots
and leave them in the doorway.
It is complicated. It wearies me to think
about it. My hands are dirty, too.
It is my life, my work.
They are angry at me.
Why should they be angry at me?
So I stay outside, and I live in the cabin
behind the barn.
I have forgotten,
I have not entered in so long,
who lives in the big house?
Is anybody at home?