Whispers

Tomorrow they’ll come To tear it down, This house I lived in At the edge of town All around me In the fusty air Are the voices of others Who once were there “Yes?” I answer And look around But I see no one's To be found. Whispers follow In empty rooms, A hint of fragrance Of long dead blooms, The faintest melody Floats on high. Do I hear a waltz? A lover’s sigh? Little footsteps On the stair, Glimpse in the mirror Of golden hair, Smell of iron on Fresh starched clothes, A whiff of roast Tickles the nose. Here are the ghosts Of yesterday Here my childhood Memories play Tomorrow the building Itself will be gone But whispers of the past Will still live on.