“To Unwin St.”

Who says a house doesn’t have a soul?

rooted in rich composted memories,

reaching skyward

with tender-tipped hopes and plans.

But we had to leave,

and in the end they tore it down,

all dreams scattered to the winds;

all life gone without our breath

to fill each room;

walls like brittle lungs crumbled.

But still my eyes would look that way,

like a deep impression on my flesh

of a hand long held and cherished;

a ghostly tug upon my senses.

Who says a house doesn’t have a soul?

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6 Comments

Filed under poetry

6 responses to ““To Unwin St.”

  1. t h i n g s + f l e s h

    your poem explodes with ingenuity, beauty and emotional resonance. thank you for sharing your moving verse with me. tony

  2. wonderful piece – and agree whole-heartedly

  3. Beautiful and poignant. Love the vivid imagery: “rooted in rich composted memories,” “tender-tipped hopes and plans,” “walls like brittle lungs crumbled.” Thank you. Cheers.

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