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.


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. *

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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