No 2:

on winter mornings

between the hours 

of three and four, the

house moans with

a creak or two as if

to hunker down,

~

thirty-eight winters

have come and gone

and still it grumbles

albeit passively, almost 

apologetically, as the

overnight temperature

plummets outside,

~

this house has been a 

silent witness to three

generations of my kin,

stories have been writ 

on its walls, children

measured beneath door 

frames inch by inch, pets 

have lived and died here,

nervous future spouses 

brought for Sunday teas,

~

on winter mornings

between the coldest

hours of three and four,

I often wake to hear 

its voice and give a 

reassuring answer as 

a thank you in return

© GRS 01/26