And the dead house burns
mold has peppered these walls
once grand and beautiful
white – or is it white-washed? – and gleaming
like bones, stripped
clean of meat, sinew, blood, and tissue
what purpose do bones have
without that which holds them together?
like the frame in this old house
bearing the weight of ages
while insulation, wiring, plaster, and paint
have fallen away
an empty house with fallow fields
that once held the fertility of promise
painting dreams never fulfilled
kerosene flows like lies
all that’s needed is a spark
…and the dead house burns
NOTE: This poem is partially inspired by the NaPoWriMo.net prompt for Day #6 – Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. The original prompt asked you to change the title, but it fit so well with the poem that came out, I decided to keep it. The title line is pulled from the book “Into the Forest” by Jean Hegland.
Image Credit: “Our House is on Fire” by Artists Icy and Sot
S.T. Marie 