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Sunday, October 30, 2011

                         friends


the man
and the house
were both so old
nobody was sure anymore
which one
was holding the other one
up/
time
and disease
had eaten both to the bone
one bleeding paint
the other spirit/
nonetheless
they stood for a time
against time


what bothers 
me
is the man's death/
he died
in his sleep
very peaceful they said
just closed his eyes
and went to sleep
and never knew
what hit him/
but how could they
know
what happens
between friends


I think
death
was no stranger
there/
not welcome
but a frequent caller
perhaps put up
in a spare room
on occasion/
and when it came
for him
i think
the man cried out
and the house
rattled down dust
in protest


© ingrid havens-trinka
First Place Free Verse Poetry Kansas Authors' Contest 1991

3 comments:

  1. Love it Ingrid - very moving - (the old man and the house)
    Ah, the house misses his friend

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  2. YAY - your very first blog. Good job Ingrid. So proud of you for taking the step. Will be anxious to read more when you are ready to post.

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  3. *soft paw* Beautiful verse. I think houses and people have connection, especially old houses and old people *pondering* I mean, they both have so many memories, both have seen so much in their lifetimes. Sometimes I think houses and people become friends.

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