in the silence of a suburban morn
as the loft drips bitter tears
into a bucket on the stairs.
Damp infects the house and her ageing bones
with the wallpaper now peeling away,
she wonders just how long she will stay,
remembering when everything was pristine,
children laughed and parties were held.
Ghosts haunt her, especially in dreams,
the old house creaking, a mirror of herself
and peers desperately onto the street.
But one day soon new owners will arrive
and the dying old house...come alive.