are howling in backyards; crisp
light etched on double glazing - stripped
all bare, all not holding falling
apart that claws
at the warmth fast vanishing
Lost in the surgical glint
of linoleum, the patterned
chintz of a plastic
A shell of a house - that
was how she wanted it
- remade and better!
A little less optimistic this time perhaps - dove
grey laps like the tide over yesterday's yellow.
How will the lady hang upon the walls, and
that long-untuned piano stand
that lends the halls an air
of - is it vanished grace?