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Showing posts from July 19, 2020

House poem

Do not lie to yourself: In the heart of the heart of the house No memories abide No flickering shadows reside No secrets there to hide. A house is a box full of toys, Long forgotten, half-broken, Once full of noise Now in a precarious poise. Look, the doll is hanging out Hair entangled, mouth in a pout Beady eyes forever half-shut One push and it would fall, but There is no one around to put it back So leave it on its rack A martyr to this place of joy and loss. Time keeps tabs on the dross.