Old House

Always with the drip-drip-drip —
Cricket echoes,
Window rattles,
Floorboards complain
Under insubstantial feet,
Groaning fire below
And an intermittent,
Water-pulling hum.

Always with the creep-creep-creep —
Cracks and fissures,
Rotten wood,
Climbing creepers,
Spores, seeds
And the box elder
Scratching its way
Into the warm.

Always with the what-was-that —
Corner collections,
Ash and dust,
Wings every where,
Half-seen travelers,
Shadows seek the ceiling —
A portal or trapdoor
Opens onto elsewhere.

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

One response to “Old House”

  1. Madeleine Begun Kane says :

    Good one. I have a very old house and those sounds definitely ring a bell. 🙂

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