Piano notes, a blow fly
and bees
buzzing. May I
humbly ask
you not to speak?
In this
old country house
the
woodwork remembers
wind,
nostalgia in every knot.
Floor,
chairs and table,
doors and
jambs, sideboard,
window
frames and picture frames,
residual
wind hums beneath
neighbourhood
noises. A day
without a
clanger in my bell,
I hear the
sweet song
of
everything else.
Beautiful. So still.
ReplyDeletemakes me think of my previous grandfather's place! Thanks for this recalled memories!
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