Humans are not my favorite species.
Man has motives that I do not abide.
I have lived apart from the herd,
but the people have found us.
They have added boat slips and buoys.

They have parked their barges beside us.

Sounds surround us day and night.
My quiet home is not alone.
No choice but change,
Here at home, no longer alone.
Will it still be a haven when we share it?
There is no choice
but change.
FLOW

Your poem embodies a new word I learned recently – solastalgia.
LikeLike
I will be using that one. Thanks Susan.
LikeLike