The empty homestead

20130912-211833.jpg [Emily Dickinson’s house at night, with lit porch (above), and as lit by lightning (below)]

I walked the floors
you tread no more

where shining porch light
holds back the blank night

as tongues gossip-flicker
across the roof quicker –

perhaps in haste
lest they should waste

each year of your absence
in unnoticed presence.


4 thoughts on “The empty homestead

    • Now empty of being a home, but during the day plenty of feet pass by to discuss the past occupants (and what might or might not have taken place on the dining room table) – gossip lives (projected on to the lightning), but the talent to write about it died many years ago…sigh.

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