Stuart Rawlinson #64 - The Day's Residue

something seeps
out of the gloaming
into the folds
of tabby clouds
layers on a matrix
of wires and webs
filled-in windows and
doors at head height
glowing and translucent
project frames
into the hollow
rooms of memory
bricks and mortar
the air stills the walls
forms and closes
the day's stiff door