The door accepted her permanence,
Resident long bonded to recall,
Exit shut tight for infinity.
The Windows wore her sober smile,
Panes reflecting years in her eyes,
Broken shards upon recollection.
Clock chimed away her mortality,
To house chained life passed and recycled,
Renewed daily in clasping hands of time.
Cutting teeth with milk and meat with sharp passion,
Dishes and diapers sloping to the walls,
Sinking slowly love’s labor drains her.
Typewriter hidden behind novels,
Written relationships in ink troubled,
Her life in lines ripped apart the stairs.
Harlem flashy diction with flair,
Words scandalized by hands of others she defended,
Vaulted family to mausoleum’s tune.
Fireplace roasted woes of winter,
Coals radiating seething tempers in snow,
Blizzard of daggers hurricane of animosity.
She floats an image on the television,
Screen blank her face fading and forgotten,
No one left in a room not living.
Couch comforts her with corroded cushions,
Moments shared with children ceased supports her,
Christmas stories and gifts unwrapping darkened tears.
Rusty pipes in bath of fluids off and flowing,
Remnants of tiles clustered on filthy floor,
Washed in fumes of desolation and despair.
A blaze lifts her up to her bedroom:
Drawers with memories still drawn unmovable,
The closet concave with smoky clothing.
She roamed to rock in her inviting chair,
Wooden the hurt and harm a hatchet,
She shrivels happiness shoulders grief.
She settles favored resting place torched,
Bed of dreams not made with paper sheets,
Quilted calamity and crime in the cold.