Presence

by on January 27, 2015 :: 0 comments

Something
Has crept into the house with us.

There were a few rooms free
And we thought about renting them out
Easy money and easier
Conversation,
But something else has made its way in.

We are trying to decipher when it entered
Maybe we left the doors unlocked
We did not board the windows
Either way, it is our fault.

We wonder where it is –
We only feel its jellyfish presence
It is in our atmosphere
But we wonder where it lay down its foundation
And all of our grave stones.

We wonder about the stages
But there are too many words and
Each answer halts at a question.

When?

The flowers are rotting and it is not even the season
Something has crept in and it enjoys
Gore and needles, the package.

We grasp at means to feel a sense of control
Something spreads like the plague.

I was told that my grandfather summoned us all to his grave,
I was told it meant something –
Perhaps this something is it.

Something
Has crept into the house with us
And it is taking my grandmother.

editors note:

Perplexed we are, so fallen in, when another one falls out. Whence comes despair? (Congratulations to Alainah! She joins our crazy confab of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of her madness on her new page – check it out!) – mh

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