Rob Levasseur Poet Rhyme

Cabin Floor

What do you see
within the trees
shadows hiding
shadows biding
standing upon
the wood
of the cabin floor
in the night.

What did you think
standing there silent
cold wind blowing
cold wind knowing
of your essence
pressed into the
grooves into the
seams of the
cabin floor.

What did you feel
catching your breath
gray clouds haunting
gray clouds taunting
leaning your waist
into life’s ebb
and flow
as the sway
to and fro had a
groan all their own.

So there you were
beauty scant shaking
beauty sure taking
from where
before there
was pain but such
was the stain stained
into that cabin floor.


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Lady Labyrinth December 29, 2020 at 12:16 PM beautiful, haunting. A ghost walks these woods and cabin floors, looking for the lost lover, surely. I love it very much, the whole immersion. Best for me, "What did you feel catching your breath gray clouds haunting gray clouds taunting leaning your waist into life’s ebb and flow as the sway to and fro had a groan all their own. So there you were beauty scant shaking beauty sure taking from where before there was pain but such was the stain stained into that cabin floor." Lady Labyrinth December 30, 2020 at 1:22 AM Love the name "Stella" very Street Car Named Desire. It seems to me, you and Rebecca are very fortunate to have found each other through Love. Beautiful. I have an understanding of ghosts, perhaps an empathy. Rob Levasseur December 29, 2020 at 1:38 PM This poem is about my wife and what she may have been contemplating one night when she was barefoot outside the cabin she shared with an evil and vile scum. I was trying to understand what she could be thinking, trapped in the middle of Sweden with a madman. I am proud of the fact that I got her out of there. Now, she can live in peace and fulfill any dreams she may thought were once dead...like having our beautiful Stella. But yes, in a sense it is like watching a ghost. A ghost of a woman caught up in an endless nightmare of rage and abuse. Lady Labyrinth December 29, 2020 at 12:18 PM I have seen ghosts in my Life. They exist. I like to write about haunted ghosts. One about artists, photographers, poets. "Barefoot in the Bushfires of the Vanities" - https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/barefoot_in_the_bushfires_of_the_vanities_1164827