quiet halls,
that echo with a breath-
cascading dust down darkened halls
softly lit, as though they are at rest.
The rooms so stark,
within the gloom, active still
as ghosts of past
go flitting through the walls,
faint perfume lingers as their scent-
the air feels warm
with loving ties,
and words spoke in silence
yet always understood.
The house made of wood and stone
collected some of what lived within
and the warmth made this house
a home.