A House in Ruin
Walking past the old dwelling,
looking in through doleful eyes.
She is an abandoned house,
tenebrous windows, crumbling
walls. Visions of the past haunt
her rooms, as she combs through
the disarray. A dark shadow
lurking in the closet evokes images
of some forgotten past. Peeling
paint, chipped plaster, her joints
are creaking hinges. Her mind, a
cobwebbed attic peppered with
incoherent words. She wades
through the rubble of her own
demise. A house that has stood
the storms of time. Age demands
its toll. Turning to walk away, the
once beloved house is left in ruin.
* Originally published by Literary Yard, March 2018 *
Ann Christine Tabaka has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from publications. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are: Ariel Chart, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine, Ann Arbor Review, The McKinley Review.
*For submission guidelines, click here.*