Na/GloPoWriMo Day 17 Challenge: Write a poem that presents a scene from an unusual point of view.
Photo A.M. Moscoso
I used to be like the other houses
that lined the streets of this town
I had curtains in my windows, mail in my mailbox
a dog house in the backyard.
One year I was painted white, another year I was painted brown
I had a lawn jockey at the end of my driveway
and roller skates and bikes in my front yard
And then one day the mail piled up and spilled from
outside of it’s well worn box
the curtains blew in and out of my empty window frame
my furnace ran until the oil ran out.
My bedrooms are always full of
sleepers who don’t dream or toss or turn
they never get cold or hungry
they never say a word.
But sometimes
they wake
and sometimes they walk
and sometimes their dog
who lives far away
snaps open his eyes and barks
at nothing, it’s nothing his new owners say
as they watch him run to the window and cry
it’s nothing
he’s just dreaming, let him be, he will be okay.
