Sullied winds chatter chimes lashed to greyed beams

Warped and splitting with age, appear none too long for this world

With each ring an angel must surely get their wings

As remuneration for a melody so heavenly revealed

~~

Steps crippled, squeal as mice in traps are bound to do

Bowing under the burden of the weary traveler

Fortitude ingrained, revives the weakened conscripts

Whose preparation has made them cordial adversaries

~~

Tawny hinges weathered by sun, beaten by the wind cry in pain

Remorse etched into their hammered finish confesses their age

Chagrined by subjugation, the door slams

Announcing defeat to it’s audience of none

~~

Dark but for dust pirouetting through muted shafts of light

Stirred by shuffling boots, tattered and worn thin by extended employ

Creaking under foot, floorboards rebel in unison with their owner

Shrunken and contorted from the weight of existence

~~

Ping of coils break the stagnant silence of the vessel

Sagging lumpy seat replaces a once firm cushion

A quiet ah, escapes from the lungs in expiration

Sense of relief but for the strain of fabric

~~

Cracking joints echo of broken glass in freefall

Legs wobble by exhausted mortise and tenon

Laden with rings, table balances precariously in an uncomfortable dance

Unsteady and unsure, time has reaped it’s revenge

~~

Tired well beyond youth, mortality returns from holiday

Waiting to reveal what lay interred beyond these walls

Neither refinish nor repair prolong to eternity

Only temporary and finite are the workings of men

~~

Man conspires with the dwelling in cosmic ways

Each subject to the ravages of the lifetime moment

Materially morphing into a shell of the original creation

Inevitably conceding to nature’s crowing fate

~~ D. R. DiFrancesco ~~