barbara ackroyd


Since You've Been Gone


It's a shell of a home
Since you've been gone
Haunted by your footsteps
The third floor to the bedroom
still creaks.
And, lights on, I'll wait for you to come.

But there's no flame to burn bright to anymore;
no hearth in the home
no poetry left in me.
You won't come.

I'll put Bacharach on the stereo
Sit on the chair
Look out the window
Stare at the stairs
That stiil echo your footfalll
Since you've been gone

(Ars Poetica 2003-2005 on tour with G. Ramsey's lithograph A Haunted House)

Submitted: Friday, April 25, 2008

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