House creaks
ferocious
decries starkness
of bare walls
absence of furniture
finality of boxes
stacked and sealed
Sleep eludes me
mind recalling
passages –
his cancer
my fear
twist of fate
that left me housebound
We could not stay here
this place chosen for healing
turned prison
“You’ve been good to us”
I whisper, “Now
you’ll favour someone else”
She grumbles in response
this old house, sharing
my trepidation
of unknowns, change
always precarious
Another groan
and I concur
we grand dams
need extra TLC
but I have faith –
an injection of
new life
will do us both good.
(This is a found poem, excerpted from a post of the same name which appeared on my second blog in July of 2017. Image my own.)
I concur with that last verse especially, love the reflective tone of this.
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😊
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I thought I was the only one who could hear houses speak. Love the injection of hope and your prose is as good as the poem.
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You are not – these walls have much to say. Thanks.
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So they do. Always a pleasure.
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Your insight woven into beautiful poetry is such a treasure. ✨
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Thanks Michele!
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An ode to adaptation
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Yes. Thanks
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“An injection of new life will do us both good” positive at best.
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Change is always good, don’t you think? Thanks.
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Yes indeed and love the word (injection) you have used.
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Thanks again.
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I like the last stanza,
“But l have faith …
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Thanks 🙏
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What a coincidence! Found poetry was a topic of discussion at a writing group meeting I attended on Wednesday. I love your creating a found poem from your own prose. I’m always fascinated by the use of more than one genre to express the same experience. In this case, I like both versions equally well.
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That is a coincidence. Lately, I’ve been revisiting old writings looking for something new. Cheers!
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It always pays to go back to my old stuff. I invariably come up with something new.
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