The roses <br />enter the house <br /> <br />through the crack <br />in the kitchen window <br /> <br />seat themselves <br />at the table <br /> <br />as if enjoying <br />a leisurely breakfast. <br /> <br />The sky <br />in all its immensity <br /> <br />pushes itself <br />into the bedroom <br /> <br />becoming a wall <br />of blue <br /> <br />where now no wall <br />is. <br /> <br />The living room <br />empty except <br /> <br />for an old <br />half sunk trunk <br /> <br />complete with clucking <br />chicken perched on top <br /> <br />a castaway <br />on an island. <br /> <br />Cobwebs join hands <br />linking everything together. <br /> <br />Photographs float <br />face down <br /> <br />like murder victims <br /> <br />drift from room <br />to room <br /> <br />ghosts of whom <br />they've been. <br /> <br />Airmail letters <br />fragile & blue <br /> <br />claiming to come <br />from America & Australia <br /> <br />dated <br />from the sunny 60's <br /> <br />eagerly awaited now <br />...so much rubbish. <br /> <br />An aged <br />mirror <br /> <br />mottled & speckled <br />& scratched <br /> <br />barely able <br />to reflect <br /> <br />what has happened <br />to its Past <br /> <br />living as it does <br />in this Present <br /> <br />(without) (a Future) . <br /> <br />Ordinary objects <br />float & dream <br /> <br />talking to themselves <br />in their sleep <br /> <br />trying to remember <br />the realness of <br /> <br />children's <br />laughter <br /> <br />childish <br />tears <br /> <br />Time lies <br />broken at the bottom <br /> <br />of the broken <br />stairs <br /> <br />cobwebs stitch <br />item to item <br /> <br />looking upon <br />a ceilingless ceiling <br /> <br />seeing only <br />a sea of stars.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-sea-of-stars/
