Descendant
The old house was left
a wordless descendant
Ravines of cold air slide in through the cracks
Deadbolts are latched and keys have been hidden
Years of desertion have swallowed the years
Cupboards are bare, and the hinges are bent,
Doors are askew with a vague musty scent
Laughter was swept with the dust of neglect
Summers and winters have long been forgotten
Windows watched seasons gobble the stars
A derelict house that no one would claim
A house shuttered tight, where no one remains
No one has bothered to take just a look
No one is writing a page from this book
No one is left to tell of the story
No one is left to walk down the stairs
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