Just a bit after midnight
Just a bit after midnight
The fridge hums in the background
An old clock quietly ticks
As she turns the pages
A quiet house exhales
Chapters still to write
Sorrow has found solace here
Laughter an echo chamber
Children a place to be children
Adults allowed to join them
She is scarred, this old house
Stories to go with each one
Hockey sticks, baseballs,
Jump ropes and roller skates
Her windows stick
The doors and floors squeak
Pencil marks tell of a family’s growth
Tape marks recall art exhibits
We will sleep well tonight
Listening to the gentle heartbeat
Of an old house whispering
Just a bit after midnight
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