Empty House

[_Shannon_]

Empty House

Walking into the empty house
she drops her keys onto the counter;
they send echoes into the corners
where she's been lonely all her life.
The clock ticking away on the wall
tells the story of her dreams.

And she wonders how hard it would be
to wrap her up in your arms
and fall inside her soft places,
telling her your everythings.

Her hands scarred with men's work
smooth the folds of her dress,
she looks out the window at the dying light.
All the words she holds inside
stagnate into a sigh
spilling into dishes in the kitchen sink.
Steam rises from the tap,
she plunges in her arms to scrape away
the grime that's been collected there.

And she wonders how hard it would be
to wrap your arms around her waist
and fall inside her soft places
letting her be your everything.

She wipes her face with the back of her palm
in the reflection of growing darkness,
remembering how beautiful she used to be
long before she knew what beautiful was.
Water drips onto the floor;
she runs the dishtowel over the pans
piling them into a shiny, clanging stack
ready to just be used again tomorrow.

And she wonders how hard it would be
to wrap her heart up tight
and fall inside her soft places
letting her forget everything.

[drago]

I would love to hear this sung. Low, mournful, delicate - but with a hidden sense of power. As the poem appears to be. Thank you.

[Delta40]

she looks out the window at the dying light.
All the words she holds inside
stagnate into a sigh
spilling into dishes in the kitchen sink.
Steam rises from the tap,
she plunges in her arms to scrape away
the grime that's been collected there.

This is a really moving piece Shannon. One can feel the silence, loneliness, and fatigue of the character who is left only to wonder as she is left alone to clean up the metaphorical mess. Bravo!

[hillwalker]

World-weariness as observed from the kitchen sink. And I can also hear it as some blues number - Nina Simone anybody?

H

[MorpheusSandman]

I have a habit of being reminded of films when I read poems, and this reminds me of Chantel Akerman's Jeanne Dielman, one of the most important films of the feminist movement, which was very much about the slowly observed disintegration of the life of a single mother. I could see this piece being the soundtrack to her life. The thought and said behind all that was unsaid. It's quite the cinematic and moving piece.

[Hawkman]

I rather liked the poem, but the refrain needs work in places, the wording doesent quite make sense with the intent, I feel.

"And she wonders how hard it would be
to wrap her up in your arms
and fall inside her soft places,
telling her your everythings."

might make more sense as:

And she wonders how hard it would be
for you to wrap her in your arms
and fall inside her soft places,
telling her your everythings.

Still, a good read, Shannon.

Live long and prosper - H