Haunted House Poem by shanta young
Haunted House
Rating: ★5.0
it echoes, its aching stairs its doors gone stiff at the hinges, remind us of its, owner who grew old, who died, but who are still here: leaning in the closet like curtain rod, sleeping on the cellar shelf like this empty jelly jar.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
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4/23/2024 10:11:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The graphic details in the narrative paint it a real 'Haunted House'. I would like to visit it once. Thanks for the touch of realism in the poem.