House Of Time Poem by Lynn Stillman

I have always been here
in this house of time.
The rooms, like hours,
empty and unadorned.
The doors remained open
for a time.
Welcome to any visitors
who might need some
shelter or conversation.
I guess no one sees much
equity in a 'fixer upper'.
So one by one,
I sealed those rooms off.
Such a waste,
to try and keep myself warm.
Today there is a knock at the door.
So now as you shake me
but fail to wake me,
spare me a little dignity,
by not asking the question why.