The roses
enter the house
through the crack
in the kitchen window
seat themselves
at the table
as if enjoying
a leisurely breakfast.
The sky
in all its immensity
pushes itself
into the bedroom
becoming a wall
of blue
where now no wall
is.
The living room
empty except
for an old
half sunk trunk
complete with clucking
chicken perched on top
a castaway
on an island.
Cobwebs join hands
linking everything together.
Photographs float
face down
like murder victims
drift from room
to room
ghosts of whom
they've been.
Airmail letters
fragile & blue
claiming to come
from America & Australia
dated
from the sunny 60's
eagerly awaited now
...so much rubbish.
An aged
mirror
mottled & speckled
& scratched
barely able
to reflect
what has happened
to its Past
living as it does
in this Present
(without) (a Future) .
Ordinary objects
float & dream
talking to themselves
in their sleep
trying to remember
the realness of
children's
laughter
childish
tears
Time lies
broken at the bottom
of the broken
stairs
cobwebs stitch
item to item
looking upon
a ceilingless ceiling
seeing only
a sea of stars.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-sea-of-stars/
