In That Big Old House...
Author: Shiloh


You know,
how you are this big, strong building,
not tall, not oversized,
but bigger than a standard sized house...
and you have this decent foundation,
you have a full basement,
strong walls, the good 2x4's and studs
and flooring
and a great heating system,
nice chimney, everything
looks wonderful,
and you are a bit proud of yourself?

Then along comes a storm
and you discover that you are now missing
some pieces as a result -
the cornerstone, the supporting key pieces,
the keystones, to archways,
and the foundation has cracked a bit
and has shifted maybe a foot or so,
and a lot of shingles and tiles are missing
here, there...
and you don't feel as good as you once did,
and you're not sure of how you look any more...
and you get to where you don't even care....

the slightest breeze pushes open some windows,
makes the chandeliers sway,
and late at night you hear small groanings
and other noises...
and you strain to hear them,
wanting to know what they are...
but you can't really tell...
and you are uneasy, you are alone
in your thoughts, in your building, in your mind.
And alone is not where you want to be.
Not now, of all times.

Because, for a while there,
even though you would not have admitted it,
you were content, because there were others
who shared the spaces...
within your house,
and you knew them.
Sure, some were gone and ghosts now,
and you would smirk at their memories,
but still, you knew them,
you had a bit of stability because they were there,
they belonged there,
and you, however grudgingly,
welcomed them.

And now they have gone completely — all of them.
They have all removed themselves from your house,
and you are left there,
in that big old house,
with the cavernous hallways,
the echoing rooms, the dark places,
the quiet noises...
Alone... and you know it, you know it now,
and for some reason it kind of scares the hell out of you...
You know how that is?


Comments on this poem/writing:

Meri ( -- Thursday, August 23 2018, 12:00 am

Very good poem

Hey Shiloh,

Sounds like a movie. I don't know how it is, but I love the flip side to being alone...meditation and so forth.

Darn good poem.
Name:                                           Remember Me

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