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
Topic(s) of this poem: old,haunted
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8/25/2026 4:05:13 PM # rel_20260825T124344Z_022792b
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.