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Arthur Vaso
Poems
Jun 28
My House
A home
is
warm, inviting
living beings
lives unfolding
Christmas carols
children's laughter
then
it becomes a house
empty
barren rooms
death now roams freely
dancing slowly to sad memories
then
a new family of smiles
children play
a new home
life recycled
memories built
on sand castles
then
it becomes a simple
house again, empty
whispers of the past
deaths song sings again
time moves on
I lived in a place
that was a house
never a home
Written by
Arthur Vaso
Montreal
(Montreal)
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