That house held a secret,
Perhaps many,
Perhaps the explanation
Of why plowing the pasture one day
Father unearthed a human skeleton.
It was built by homesteaders,
Had held the lives of
Three generations.
One entered through a spacious kitchen,
Immediately encountered the wood cookstove
Which also heated water for the bath to one side.
A spacious pantry lay to the other.
It made me sick and chilled
To enter further,
To pass through the front room,
Grasp the worn wood banister
And climb the stairs
To the long silent dimness between bedrooms,
Peer into their darkness.
It’s bad mojo
To lose one’s shadow
And no one ever saw their shadow
In that dark house.
I wish I could have taken Pepper in there.
Dogs know.
For forty years
Nightmares of that house
Lacerated my sleep.
Recently it was burnt to the ground,
Training for firemen.
A new thought came writing this.
All my life I suffered dreams
Of demons,
Demons possessing me.
They ceased as well.
Perhaps my peace lies in
Those ashes.
Sep 19, 2025
Sep 19, 2025 at 11:33 PM UTC
That house held a secret,
Perhaps many,
Perhaps the explanation
Of why plowing the pasture one day
Father unearthed a human skeleton.
It was built by homesteaders,
Had held the lives of
Three generations.
One entered through a spacious kitchen,
Immediately encountered the wood cookstove
Which also heated water for the bath to one side.
A spacious pantry lay to the other.
It made me sick and chilled
To enter further,
To pass through the front room,
Grasp the worn wood banister
And climb the stairs
To the long silent dimness between bedrooms,
Peer into their darkness.
It’s bad mojo
To lose one’s shadow
And no one ever saw their shadow
In that dark house.
I wish I could have taken Pepper in there.
Dogs know.
For forty years
Nightmares of that house
Lacerated my sleep.
Recently it was burnt to the ground,
Training for firemen.
A new thought came writing this.
All my life I suffered dreams
Of demons,
Demons possessing me.
They ceased as well.
Perhaps my peace lies in
Those ashes.
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