house alone
with rotting siding
yellowed hidden
skies of truth
humming heavens
worth a climb
honeycomb wasps
for hours each way
following wires
upstairs open window
lifeless grass agrees
poked by bones
stalks of dry weeds
brittle auburn leaves
gathered by logs
rusted together
purity no more
house alone
where life once took
moldy books
with halfway marks
and faded sheets
by window sun
on unmade beds
never touched again
sacred sunday
peaceful morning
hanging fear and dust is falling
wipe away