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Figments, Dreams, Or Memories
Ya’ know
It seems I’ve been here before
Else how could I know
How many steps up… to the door?
Just which plank would squeak
Beneath my feet…The porch swing
That hangs there no more
The bell push dark tarnished
The door stripped of varnish
Seems I’ve crossed this threshold before
E’en the doves that sob softly
In the trees…seem to me
Fairly familiar… and what’s more
The shutters aslant at a perilous cant
By sides of window sash
That hold glass…no more
Have I trod away on the sod
That cuddles this house
Looked back and bade it nevermore?
My memory is confused
and time has abused it
So I truly can’t be sure…anymore
Back down the stoop
My shoulders adroop
One last look o’er my shoulder,,,no more!
Ya’ know it no longer matters
That both my memory and
The house are in tatters
But so it surely seems…
It could not have been in my dreams?
No! I’m quite sure that I’ve been here
…before…
Copyright ©
David O'Haolin Whalen
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