The day we moved in,
the shingles dulled,
floorboards groaned,
whispers began.
Visions came true-
James Dean dying in twisted german steel.
Then I saw my own death.
At dinner, I told my mother.
Her gaze roamed walls, tile,
the rusted sink dripping darkly-
as if the watching house might answer first.
Finally:
“I know.”
Aug 7, 2025
Aug 7, 2025 at 10:25 PM UTC
The day we moved in,
the shingles dulled,
floorboards groaned,
whispers began.
Visions came true-
James Dean dying in twisted german steel.
Then I saw my own death.
At dinner, I told my mother.
Her gaze roamed walls, tile,
the rusted sink dripping darkly-
as if the watching house might answer first.
Finally:
“I know.”
This is a "flash 55' - a poem in exactly 55 words. The event also occurs in '55. Inspired by https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5119935/while-pouring-coffee/ and https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5119457/inheritance/
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