The Moya View

House H(a)unting


It’s hard to find an even house:


foundations settle at creation,

doors will sag from slamming,


tiles will chip from drop pots,

careless feet scuffing along,

days when they sweat and cry,


bricks will crack, driveways too—

settling into a haunting beauty,


everything tilts differently,

microscopically altered

from your last place.


Yet, you wonder

if the windows

will stick in winter,

stay open in summer .


You wonder where will

the dust angels hide,

what room can you

see the stars clearly.


The screened in porch,

you notice, let’s

in too much sun.


You feel its heat

on your arm

during the tour.


Will it hold your gravity,

if it can’t hold its own?


The air conditioning

shrieks like a ghost.


You hear squirrels

dancing in the attic,

the ones that will

keep your dog

barking all night.


You look for the line

where the water stopped.


The angst settles in you

like night fog, like a lifetime

of settling that sucks you in,


The heavy rain comes

in amounts that

can’t be bailed fast enough.


The house is a lake.

The lake is inside you,

and in the collapse

of the roof, you see the sky.


The house starts floating away

and you disappear inside it.





One response to “House H(a)unting”

  1. Caroline Shank Avatar
    Caroline Shank

    Marvelous dream/fantasy. I love this

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