Who lived here? Who did?
This solitary house
Its awnings peckled grey
Like Grandmother’s blouse
Its verandah all splintered
The windows taped in
Toys crammed in crannies
An overflowing bin
Its placement is street-less
Stands all alone
At night, hear the creatures
Ululate and moan.
Wind skreeling softly
Then louder, louder still
Owls plangent hooting
Gyre of the ghost mill
The roof is chipped tin
Walls of crumbling wood
Everything ancient
Chimney, choked soot
Who lived here? Who did?
There’s no-one left now
House stands alone
In a canted defeated bow
On blue peeling stilts
It creaks in the wind
Too tall by half
Too haunting, too grim
Mud holds the pickets
That rot by the gate
That swings like lost childhood
Redolent of fate
The bathroom is tiny
Not unlike a box
Toothbrushes in the bathtub
A sink filled with socks
From years-aged washing
It never got done
Who lived here? Who did?
Mother, Father … Son?
The wardrobe is creaky
Inches of dust
Lie thick on the cutlery
That oranges with rust
Stains on the curtains
Cloth lies in threads
Who lived here? Who did?
Alive, Gone … Dead?
Who belonged to this house?
To whom did it belong?
Who lived here? Who did?
Where have they gone?
The house left, lugubrious
To age ‘til its death
To bear ancient memories
Of life, heartbeats, breath.
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