The Landing
An old house abandoned lay back from the curb
now long forgotten, its story unheard
I rose up the stairs feeling heavy of foot
When I arrived at the landing, around I did look
Three doors surrounded, all painted red
one left, one right, and one straight ahead
I now yearned to see what was behind
Might they bear wisdom to passage of time
The door I first opened was on my right side
The bolt slid smoothly the hinges did glide
Adorned in fine silk and threads of high count
this room was of splendor and that which amounts
A bed of four posts with a misty cloth veil
The lingering scent of sweet perfume did trail
A rug Wove in Persia covered the floor
I gasped at its beauty, and then closed the door
Now on the landing I pondered the next,
after the last, I now stood vexed
The door in the center was rugged and worn
As I then turned the knob, from my hand it was torn
The door flew open and a cold wind rushed
just for a moment, then all was hushed
Light from a broken sash lit the room
and told a sad story of an ending too soon
There on the floor with the sill just above
lying on shards, a white fallen Dove
Bloodied of breast and listlessly still
a symbol of love, but no longer of will
A deception of sight in flight brought her last
I took in the scene, recounting steps past
Now on the landing I pondered the next
The door now remaining was that on my left
From inside the room came a curious sound
As the door swung open, I stood in astound
Small dampened foot prints littered the floor,
and new ones appeared atop oaken boards
A young girl was singing a rhyme from gone bye
Her I could hear, but not see with my eyes
she seemed very happy and full of young life
At her age what did happen, what was her strife?
Why does she stay here yet to pass on,
and be with her family now that they've gone?
I felt a calm aura and warm gentle glow,
as back to the doorway I slowly did go
Now on the landing I pondered the rooms
They left me in wonder, and still they now do...
Copyright © Bradley Finken | Year Posted 2013
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