Home Again by Michael Keshigian

Abandoned house, are there 

only spiders and rodents

residing amid your rooms?

I see my distorted image

upon the fogged glass 

of the old storm door,

and feel like a prowler,

appraising the value of items

upon your walls

or tucked in your corners,

when, in truth, I seek

to rekindle precious memories 

and reconstruct pictures

the recent days

have begun to obscure,

events the rain of years

are washing away,

remembrances,

trickling indiscernibly  

through the pitted window 

of my mind’s eye

as I rap my fist

against the glass, 

hoping the ghosts will answer.

Michael Keshigian, from New Hampshire, is a musician, writer, runner  published in numerous national and international journals most recently including Red River Review, Blue Pepper, and Tipton Poetry Journal, appearing as feature writer in over a dozen publications with 6 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. (michaelkeshigian.com)