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.
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