Home Awakens
The house sits silent.
All but for the creaks and groans
as the house settles on it’s aging foundation.
The arthritic sound of wood.
A faint hum from the refrigerator,
is the backdrop, to the passing of time
from the Grandfather clock in the hall.
A cat sits on the stairwell landing.
A silent witness to the night.
It’s green eyes glowing softly,
within the slash of moonlight.
The gentle sounds of sleep
come from the rooms above.
The slow steady drip of a faucet,
the only sound within the home.
A breeze sweeps through an open
French door, billowing, gauzy curtains.
Carrying with it the scents
of Honey suckle and Rose.
The wood rope swing that hangs
from the gnarled tree, is caught
up in the nighttime breath, to cast about.
The old rope squeaks it’s protest.
The wind in the leaves rustle out
their own soft song. Singing to sleep
the birds and small creatures of the day.
Welcoming the night hunters.
As the night passes and the sun begins to rise,
so too the house awakens.
The cat uncurls to stretch
and head out the open door.
the drip of the faucet,
is now a steady stream,
Washing off a face of sleep.
From the kitchen, comes the smell
of coffee freshly brewing.
So starts the new day.
The sun will ride this day's sky,
to set once again.
The house will settle anew,
welcoming the night time stage.
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2010
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