January 20, 2016

This House by Ryan Stone

never recovered from the storms of ’93
when lightning stroked shingles, shorted out circuits;
left one side wind blown and sagging.
Tufts of moss sprout from the bowed memory
of taut boards. A plague of crickets
lurk beneath stairs; creaking their arthritic chatter.
From a threadbare recliner in a ramshackle room
I gaze over fields at a familiar view,
distorted by windows now broken and rheumy.

Ryan Stone is a freelance writer from Melbourne, Australia.  He shares his home in the blue Dandenongs with his wife, two young sons and a German Shepherd.  A selection of Ryan's poetry, prose, haiku, art and flash fiction can be found on his blog - www.daysofstone.wordpress.com


  1. A brilliant poem, Ryan. "...windows now broken and rhuemy." Perfect!

  2. Thank you, Sarah :)

  3. Thank you, Geetha :)

  4. Enjoyed this poem tremendously. You allow me to be there with you. Thank you.