What I Alone Will See

Slowly the rafters
Of this vacant house
Creak and I alone
Can hear them whisper.
Their conversations
Carry on in rhythm
With the whistling wind –
No other sound is made.

In my mind I envision
The arrival of every
Possible individual:
Family, friend, or
Stranger – anyone
To break the silence
Of this vacant house
With conversing beams.

Snow is in the forecast
But is yet to cover these
Silent fields, and trees.
In this moment I am left
Alone with my thoughts.
Invisibly they float
Before my eyes with
Pictures, of worlds
Past, and created.

Yesterday,
Today,
Tomorrow.

Once,
Existent,
In the waiting.

These whispering stairs will lead me on. 

 © Jeremiah Dowling    December 16th, 2008

* This is a throwback poem from 3 years ago today. At night time I like to sit in my dark house alone, and listen to the silence. This poem was inspired by one of those moments and my observations as I watch the shadows and listened to the wind beat upon my house. *
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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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