Grandmother's House
By Dyan Sandefer

The old house, emptied
of Grandmother’s presence,
sinks slowly into a spirit
of disrepair,
welcoming comfort
from the scurry of field mice
and the coo of doves,
whose eerie song spooks
nerves of the living,
who are alone
in this darkened house,
searching.

Searching for essence
of Grandmother. With tender
longing, we breathe her scent
on dresses left hanging,
shoes lined up below,
waiting for her return,
for her to slip into them
and walk away,
longing to be useful
once more.

In the kitchen,
pots and pans
also wait, barren,
wanting biscuits to rise and swell
again like pregnant tummies full
of hope,
affirming life.

Only stillborn memories survive
as the old house
slips quietly into despair.

Dyan Sandefer resides in Southwest La. with her husband and three children, where she struggles to write poetry about the deeper things of life, sometimes seen with a slightly skewed glance. Due to her reluctance to experience rejection, she has only recently begun to actually share her poetry with the unsuspecting world. Her work has appeared in Kota Press, PoetryRepairShop, Poetic Voices and will soon be seen in Dead Mule School of Literature. dyan sandefer@AOL.com