Monday, 27 September 2010

The Abandoned House

Past hope, past hunger,
I am my loose steps,

my fly-by-night boards;
brambles sprawled upon a chair;

missing banisters;
the footprints of foxes;

cupboards of workaday and best china;
records; tins of polish, paraffin.

I am folding inwards,
till my roof collapses,

till mortar falls from brick
and plants seal me

in this homeless home,
this seed case.

Here’s the fire I set for warmth,
or to end, to still

the talk of rodents,
the tongues of curtains.

***This poem has just been published in isssue 7 of Swamp

*** And here are the latest additions to my family:


  1. "I am my loose steps...brambles sprawled upon a chair..missing banisters..I am folding inwards..and plants seal seed case..the tongues of curtains."..In subject, imagery, tone, style and use of language, this is a stunning poem, a real gem. Thankye for sharing your poetry Sian. Post more!

    ~ Strider

  2. Kind comments, Strider. Thank you.

    S x