The light from your window
Casts a broken line
Down the stairs
That jagged finger
Pointing
Toward the cellar door.
A faded photograph
Rests quietly
On the floor -
Tattered edge
Like a child’s hand
Curled up
Gesturing for help
The air is filled
With dust
Like a million
Fireflies
In the light
Against the stairs.
This house
Vacant some 10 years -
Paint cracking
Small chips fallen
On the hardwood floor -
Seems alone
Heartbroken
Longing for the footfalls
Of children
Mothers
The sounds of their laughter
Outside in the grass
Some two feet tall
The wind threatens
To carry the house
Off
Into another time
To lay beside you
In that faded photograph
A Blog Version Of The Inside Of My Head. The place where politics, film, the media, music, pop culture, and random topics collide in an orgy of neo-philisophical randomness that would make your mother scream.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Verse Pt IV
This one is titled "Down From The Hospital On The Hill"
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