the bones
of it rattle
on a cold night, the pipes
groan,
the stairs
creak even without
the weight
of a single
foot
or leg.
the wind catches the shutters,
making them bang
and shake.
a whistle of cold air,
creeps
through
the loose door, the untight
windows.
in the middle of the night
i awaken,
startled by the cacophony
of noise,
i shout out,
who goes there?
have i let in yet another
mistake?
No comments:
Post a Comment