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 po...
Women's Spiritual Poetry