The doors are locked,
shades drawn.
No signs of life
stirring inside.
Out on the porch,
strike the knocker—
no one answers,
as if someone’s died.
I recall the hinges
swung wide open,
the hostess there waiting,
each room lit and alive.
She must’ve moved on,
neglecting to tell me—
or, perhaps, couldn’t
manage a goodbye
Now I must find
myself elsewhere;
the proprietress
left me an empty sky.
In the end, I wasn’t kin,
just a boarder—
privileges suspended,
a house closed tight.
—•0•—
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 10:19 AM UTC
The doors are locked,
shades drawn.
No signs of life
stirring inside.
Out on the porch,
strike the knocker—
no one answers,
as if someone’s died.
I recall the hinges
swung wide open,
the hostess there waiting,
each room lit and alive.
She must’ve moved on,
neglecting to tell me—
or, perhaps, couldn’t
manage a goodbye
Now I must find
myself elsewhere;
the proprietress
left me an empty sky.
In the end, I wasn’t kin,
just a boarder—
privileges suspended,
a house closed tight.
—•0•—
Feelings of abandonment, emotional closure, and profound loneliness.
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