The empty house around me ticks and creaks, <br />A moody end to evening's gentle rains, <br />A brooding quiet as the daylight wanes, <br />The secret language empty houses speak. <br /> <br />What stories might this house preserve entire <br />In rhythmic code composed of click and groan? <br />Does House recall a sadness with each moan? <br />Is laughter stored in every plank and wire? <br /> <br />And how might I, a fleeting visitor, <br />Acquire an ear for stories trapped in time, <br />And wrap a tale or two in words and rhyme? <br />How can I tap the House's secret lore? <br /> <br />In silence soft the house slips off to sleep. <br />Alone I sit, in darkness vast and deep.<br /><br />Russell Collier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-an-empty-house-remembers/
