in the house in the woods
there are no clocks
there's no one to tell the time
~
the colour of the leaves
the creaking of the floor
the abandoned nests
of winter mice
the sedimentary layers
of dust
the peeling paint
on the empty chest of drawers
there are stories here
of what once was
and will not be any more
I'd love to spend some time there.
ReplyDeletethe sedimentary layers
ReplyDeleteof dust
You have the exact phrase that I was searching for but couldn't find for the coming week's Poetry Bus prompt!
I can almost smell this scene, touch the paint on the house with my fingers and feel the warmth of sun on my back. thanks, Steven.
ReplyDeletealaine - it's an old sugar shack - used for rendering down maple sap into syrup. i think a month a year i'd love to move in and write and paint and read and drink tea and listen to the birds and the scurrying sounds on the forest floor. steven
ReplyDeletejinksy - always pleased to offer a creative spark wherever it's needed. good luck with the poetry bus! steven
ReplyDeleteelisabeth - it's cool to have such a sensory response to an image. steven
ReplyDeleteI really like the house in the woods, especially no clocks!
ReplyDeletehello technobabe! i don't wear a watch. there seem to be plenty of clocks wherever i go. i can live without time except when i am teaching. then time is of the essence. that starts up in a week or so. for now, well i have to check what day it is let alone the date or time!! steven
ReplyDeleteYES! This is the cabin/house of my dreams- breaks my heart a little because of the "no more" ...the crumbling and pealing can be fixed but the "no more" is ...gone. This poem , sigh...I know this little house of yours.
ReplyDeletelinda sue it's a funny thing, i guess a little house in the woods has been a part of my dream and wishworld for as long as i can remember. there are days when it's all i could wish for - set it up to allow for a good and simple quality of life and that would have to include the ability to support creative output of some sort or another! steven
ReplyDeleteI love the echo of the silver birch tree on the roof, like a giant sun lit snowflake, and again on the lean to, like the whole of the surrounding nature can be reproduced in the experience of seeing and imagining myself in that one house.
ReplyDeleterachel if it was possible i'd love to revisit this place in the autumn and then again in the winter. it's a fair bike ride to get there - a gorgeous but hard ride. i'd like to see the birch shadows against snow and then also against the backdrop of autumnal colour. steven
ReplyDeleteI pass houses at night - golden light glowing from windows - and wonder what stories are living inside... and when I come across shuttered, empty houses, I wonder what life-echos still live inside....
ReplyDeleteIt would be lovely to visit... I wonder if it could be restored to be enjoyed by someone as a writer's haven or an artist's retreat?
ReplyDeleteWonderful thoughts. You should post this on Magpie Tales. It fits the prompt beautifully.
ReplyDeletevalerianna me too! especially when i'm in the countryside and there's a house tucked way back down a tree-lined drive! steven
ReplyDeletelizzy - that thought crosses my mind when i see a sweet little place like this. i'm especially drawn to old cabins by rivers. steven
ReplyDeletewillow i'll have a look see. thankyou for your very generous comment on the golden fish blogiversary posting!!! steven
ReplyDelete