Dead Children Laughing
the old house came tearing down
and decades of memories
came crashing to the ground as
the rotten walls crumbled.
The splintered wood jumbled
and splattered all around
spilling remnants
of tattered clothing
and faded photographs
yellowed epitaphs
of an age gone by.
I thought I heard the laughter
of children long dead.
I imagined them jumping on the bed
where they were conceived and born.
I could have sworn
they were in the yard
clapping hands
and trying very hard
to shimmy up a tree
that had withered and fell
these so many years ago.
It is as though
I could see them grow
and I stood and listened
as pale light glistened
through old window glass
throwing shadows
of their lives long past.
They slowly slipped from sight
as the day eased into night
and I could not hold them near.
When morning came again
it was as though
they were never really here.
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