A house breathes through its bones, <br />Its summits sit like sentries; <br />Though rafters decompose- <br />It never denies entry. <br /> <br />Its ghosts lie in their beds, <br />Soft earth beneath their memory; <br />The shutters firmly closed- <br />The past seen only dimly.<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-house-breathes-through-its-bones/
