Unquiet House
by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
Dilapidated house. The broker’s keen Maria’s chatter is distracting him, I slip out — for a photo, I explain — How many bargain hunters have been here, The deck is clouded. Spiders overhead, Unnatural deeds carry threads forward Sweet blood’s in undiscovered special rooms, The “For Sale” sign nods back and forth as if No longer called a conjuror, my steps The agent doesn’t realize what’s right Maria’s eyes meet mine, a message swept The undead must have dreams for which to wait. |
Copyright © 2019 by LindaAnn LoSchiavo