Oh what a story that house might tell
for every house has ears
it absorbs
what families leave
in their wake
Good times; bad - births and deaths
to be had
and always a singular presence
a house alive
sometimes happy
often too sad
We take it for granted
when we're living there
We gaze distantly after we're gone
wistfully thinking back
and wondering
if we ever lived
there......
Bill sent this poem as a gift to me - he was a very special man!
