This Old House
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I - this vacant building, dilapidated by years and cold inadvertence.
Obscurities dance in my eaves, ravenous belfry bats, scouring dusk -
Notions, plans, dreams, impulses - the detritus that bloats their bellies.
Scrawny, gnarled trees about me, bony-fingered limbs clawing, scraping,
Biased, ragged people who assume to know, whose perspectives bleed -
Careless, avaricious purposes, spirits gutted like my stark, graffitied walls.
YOU shall redeem me ... douse my scaffolding, ignite these timbers ...
Ravage my whole with conflagration, toss the cooling ashes windward!
My foundation runs deeper than these trees' tangled roots ... now ...
Raise again, my walls - loving, formidable, joyous, and you ... INSIDE.
Written and submitted on January 25, 2019
For the "Ten Lines Ten Words, Free Verse 1" Poetry Contest
Lu Loo, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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