The House

David Thorpe Poem Kubili

The storm broke
the stillness,
winds reaped vengeance,
doors and beams creaked
like bones of old age

Clouds burst their banks,
rain poured down
chimney stacks and
pelted naked window panes
into submission

A flash dispersed darkness,
the house awoke
with an askance glance,
lightning struck, targeted
at the sign “For Sale”

Voices long ago muted,
whispers of wraiths
creep from room to room,
floor boards moan
their boredom

The paradigm of silent bareness
still not comprehended,
the house awaits their return,
on locking the door in their haste,
they forgot to say farewell

David Thorpe ©® 2018

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