unfriended by the walls

it began when a door
required readjusting

swollen
down below
sticking to the floorboards

a physical thing
for intervention
or perhaps
a carpenter to talk to

someone
who understood

the window’s problems
were more clearly
psychological

transparently neurotic
but still a form
of psychic discomfort
surrounded by blank stares

one by one
the foundation pieces
moved out
and then moved on

the outer walls
were tired
a vacation might refresh

perhaps
a painting weekend
somewhere
with a palette
of brighter shades

the kitchen
and the bedrooms
felt they could not bear
to hold up
when they’d been left
teetering
without support

~

fallen to the ground
de-shingled
and disheveled
unfriended and alone

the roof
is contemplating
entering a relationship
with a basement
that is little more
than a hole

~

Poem #489 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

11 thoughts on “unfriended by the walls

  1. Hmmm…I went into a house in London when I was looking for a house and it was not far off that. I could see through the roof, there was an old air raid shelter in the back , remnant from WW2 and although it was a terraced house joined on both sides to other houses it was sinking in the middle. I figured it was a job for professionals.

    Liked by 1 person

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