In this old place everything’s tall: <br />The cupboards, the clocks, the door of the hall. <br />The wind sings calmly as if it calls <br />The mice that lived in these empty walls. <br /> <br />I haunt everywhere like a ghost. <br />Oh places, where Dad was the host. <br />This is the cellar where they kept cheese <br />Whose magic smell made us stop and inbreathe. <br /> <br />The smell that drove us nearly mad, <br />And we were ready to fight with the cat. <br />This box used to be full of prunes, <br />The favourite fruit of little Drew. <br /> <br />I feel her presence, the girl that fed <br />My brother and me: she gave us bread. <br />Her memories are fading yet I hold on tight <br />Cursing the car that took them that night.<br /><br />Konstantin Ananin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/empty-walls-parody-on-empty-rooms-by-tjb/
