Lath And Plaster Lockets



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.


18 thoughts on “Lath And Plaster Lockets”

  1. Ah yes the lathe and plaster I know well. In one of my homes we had to take a wall down for renovations and we found old nails and in the plaster covering the lathe and plaster there was horse hair mixed in.


  2. Your imagery is fantastic and matched the intrigue of the photo. I like pockets as lockets of memories along with trinkets left behind.
    I like the mysterious and creepy idea of people being plastered into walls, like Edgar Allen Poes “The Cask of Amontillado.” ( not sure if I spelled that correctly 🙂 )

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Sorry, I don’t know how I missed this comment. I hate when I do that. :/ Thanks for reading and commenting and I think you’re spot on with the spelling. Rather pleasant drink too if memory serves. 🙂


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