We Crumble
The house seemed
perfect perhaps for my small body
The cedar shake sides
fresh blue grey paint
nails well-hidden
walls solid and silent
on warm walk-through tour
floorboards smooth with a fresh coat of
arid lacquer
giving nostrils the one-two punch on first steps inside
The old washing machine a clue unnoticed
walls that pop with temperature changes
so loud it wakes me
stove’s electrical wires crackle beside the wall
a junkyard refrigerator whines and hisses
French drains overflow in long heavy rains
water seeps under the garage door
foundation stained from wet framed wood walls
like sun-faded rings in an old tree stump
Still
the house protects
keeps me warm
secure
as it crumbles around me
slowly
Licton Springs Review 2014 