by Seth Hunter Perkins
In the House of Silent Voices,
Dust has settled on the floor
Obscuring all footprints but mine.
The living room photographs of our youth’s ambition
distorted by the ravages of neglect :
That which is unseen does not shine.
The Dining Room table is set
its last meal untouched where it was left
and the centerpiece token
unrevealed, undisclosed, unspoken,
Lies untouched, nevertheless broken.
The Bedroom heart which once dreamed,
in eyes captured in reflections between:
with lightning and thunder,
the gaping wound healing never
condemning to dust.
While the Silent Voices in the basement speak