Where we lived
Rusted golden knob,on the left of a parched
and partially painted door.
Turn clockwise,close my eyes and push
Screeching,squeaking keeping eyes closed no peeking
Dust,musk and dander fill my nasal passages.(sneeze)
Open my eyes low and behold images flash through my mind.
Hastily and apace my recollections reappear,
While witnessing a single spider falling slowly to the floor.
As I step into this great empty space-just past way of the door.
Looking,seeing a gander rising my eyes to head level,
Piercing airborne gilings and dancing soot,
Flickering rays from the sun infuriate my sight like I am a midnight devil.
Light roaming in and around from a dingy sliding glass window,
A vignette emerges of the old wooden fence in the backyard.
This is where we lived-And that's where we played hard.
Copyright © michael whipps | Year Posted 2016
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