There’s an empty room on that floor.
It’s been, oh, probably decades
since anyone has set foot
through that door,
and walked on the hardwood
along the wide window
where the sun penetrates deep between
the fibres of the curtains, gently blowing
in the cool summer breeze.
Decades since anyone sat in the soft leather chair
and put their feet up,
slept away the afternoon
with a newspaper draped delicately on their lap.
It’s been decades, I’d say,
since anyone heard the pitter-patter of the mice
running along the beams overhead,
and the barn owl resting on the peak of the roof,
surveying the landscape in the moonlight.
and still it sits,
that old now empty room,
waiting for someone
to smell the musty air,
pull back the curtains,
watch the world outside the window run away
as it cycles through each day.
Yes, decades, I’d say.
And yet it still waits.
If I could find you
If I could fail you
If I could follow you deep into the darkest caverns of the world
And light the way with only the glow of your heart beating in my hand
If I could see what you had seen when you found me
Crawling through the dust
And eating the weeds that I plucked from beneath me
The weeds cultivated in agony and borne on my frail and wizened breath
And if I could gaze deeply into the heart of the world
And follow you,
And if I could look into my own soul and feel the tempo of yours as I searched for you
And if I could fail you
And still light the way with only the glow of your beating heart
As I carried it through the deepest catacombs
Then could you find me again?
So this is it,
The end of the beach.
Well you know
The sand’s a lot softer than I thought it’d be.
When I turn around
I know that you’ll be gone;
But can we sit awhile,
And stare into the ocean waves
Just long enough to see the sun set
And disappear behind the trees