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AE Wilson May 2014
Musty brown boxes scattered about the floor;
this one – unyielding wood,
the next – coarse carpet.
Somber drapes wave goodbye,
wistful and grave
as tears stream down the windows.
The house anticipates abandonment
and screams aloud at the wind’s embrace.
She rocks and trembles
beneath the heavy downpour,
another vagabond companion.
Tiny hands coddle walls in an attempt at comfort.
They try to understand the pain
of being left behind,
because they know the pain
of leaving – all too well.

— The End —