THIS HOUSE
by John M. Davis



stood firm,
on footings deeper than any frost…
present tied past to future
and love pulled with such gravity
walls bowed and floors buckled.
We gathered to each other a body of warmth,
leaned into flames for heat and light
and burnt bright. We had such faith
in our human souls.

But I couldn’t hold your breath
or fill your heart
as you slipped into a solitude
of deeper sleep.

Bar the doors.
Board up these windows,
they’ll see no more.

Down empty halls,
through darkening rooms, catacombs,
my footfalls echo the loss of you.
Handrails ease me down
arthritic stairs,
to a basement’s dark and cold intent.
Before the past fades or this place
becomes a maze, a muddle,
before dreams desert me
or resolve is gone,
I’ll not wake another day
hostage to this house.





Illya's Honey Literary Journal

Copyright by Dallas Poets Community. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.