The January House

The January halls
are empty;
they echo
with thin, pale memories

The January house
is bare and
spare,
empty

There are no tchotchkes
no collections
no trophies
no books
no pictures
to distract the eye,
or absorb the sound
of a single pair
of slippers
shuffling
through the January halls.

Hollow echoes
bounce
off the hard,
bare surfaces.

The January house
stands empty,
waiting
to be filled

This is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads where we are challenged to write something springing from the word hollow.

6. Inscrutable

demeyer

The inscrutable face
behind the mask
holds all
things in
all people out

No
tender
legal issues
to sort through

No
muss
no fuss
everything
in its proper place

No
man
behind
the curtain
pulling strings

Only
a reflection
of an empty room
an empty space
an empty life
an empty face
behind the mask

This is linked to Verse Escape, FF55 and the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.
The image is an Elizabeth Arden advertising photo by Aldoph de Meyer, 1927, Fair Use>

Loss

Loss curls around him
rubbing against his stubbled cheek
he turns his face to it
and swallows it whole

he feels it circle then settle, heavy
and smooth in his belly
like a stray cat
coming home

inside he is windswept
flapping around the dark pit of absence
bleak as the moors in November
and falling
always falling

 

This started out as a quadrille (44 words) but I came back to it, fiddled, and added a few more.  Now it’s linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads where they are hosting an open forum.