I watched time crumble
On the brick floor's slumber
From its fated machinism
And the pallid light of summer
Leaning wearily on the walls
Escaped the frosted windows
With a somnolent opalescence
A wan and aimless escapade,
Such a dreamy afternoon
Where life pounces keeling out
Of gravity and vibrant hues
A slumbering dog, poignant from
The absence of barks and bones
An empty set of walls
Once a place called home
The house swooned over
From its winding knee
And struggling loop of
Tightrope heraldries,
Like the collapse of lungs
As a breath of verve escapes and
Heaves back with a titanic space
To accentuate the hollow break,
Topple and restore, filling emptiness
Without making a sound,
Without any motion, but
The absence of the souls
That became its constitutions
Floods the vivid light with gloom
And the summer is contained
Within a wintry solitude inside
The lone yearning bones
The curtains unruffled,
The floor spread wider,
The ceiling climbed loftier,
And the saudade croons
Played in the air waves
With laughs and simpers
Tinkering the static
And in this chamber,
For now, I'm home alone
Yet, soon, this place
Would be abandoned
By my trifle entity and
The company of my soliloquy
But not of my yearning
And shadows and shards
And lone feeling in the solitariness
That makes this place a home.
Norman Santos
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-alone-16/
