Lath and plaster crumbled mid the rafters,
Dust and debris hung by aged cobwebs,
Linked by shadows lingering hereafter,
Secret lives suspended by their threads.
Here’s a year when someone else once lived here,
There’s the time they opened casket, found
Chains of bones, forgotten that once held cheer,
Dust to dust, they loiter, still around.
Cemented, covered over, for duration,
Detritus has held them fastened tight,
Awaiting such a moment, reparation,
Motes of souls, now drywalled, from all light.
There are memories you can’t see, in these lockets,
Hidden in the eaves, behind the walls,
Lath and plaster hold them, in dry pockets,
Residing there till this old building falls.
scottishmomus 