Staying behind in a house that’s abandoned,
for sale and forgotten and nobody cares:
the stray cat, a bat moving in for the winter,
the mice and some slow living spiders and bees.
The wood worms, the floors that are cracking and rotten,
the ants, the cobwebs, the mirrors and doors that won’t shut,
sounds from the past, the leaking rain talking,
memories playing their hide and seek antics.
Mould. Slugs. Two buried fetuses.
No new owner waiting, the habitants grow
in freedom, in size, in boldness and number
to a buzzing crescendo, to a scream in the night.
Where does it end? House for sale.
When the astronaut returned to Earth,
he was told that he had lived shorter
than those he had left behind on the planet,
and he had won a whole second in time
which the others had consumed.
He quickly found out that this was true;
wherever he went,
elevator doors closed before he could get out
and his wife said goodbye
before he had a chance to say hello.
sunlight painfully reminds me of outside
while inside all is gently talking of darkness
and the choice is mine to live it or not
ants carry stuff without hesitation
rain never pours from earth to sky
there is logic everywhere but in me
the spider insists in keeping me company
building a new web every night
and it catches my thoughts in its silken net
one day she and I shall leave this cave
together facing the lightness;
for now she moves in circles like me