Whispers

bydemure101©

Sold, deserted, our ancestors gone,
the well-known rooms will house a different ghost.
Now trodden paths diverge; their ancient curve
moves on a little, daily, with the moon's
slow rhythms - old defiance dwindled, gone
upon the dark of night, the stars too weak
to light its passage. Where our feet once walked
our soft steps' sound will go unrecognized,
no forebears' welcome be their part. The food
we smell will be cooked measured; there will be
no extra portion when the tramp alights
upon the doorstep. Hands won't pat the dust
from off our backs. Our greetings will be met
with cold incomprehension - who are you
to dare disturb our quiet, ships adrift
that hail us in the night - and warmth exchanged
by mere politeness. No, those days are done;
borne by the wilting winds the desert sands
have taken over, singing in our ears
a wordless song to mourn our passing years.

Report Story

bydemure101© 2 comments/ 623 views/ 0 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

1 Pages:1

Please Rate This Submission:

Please Rate This Submission:

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Please wait
Recent
Comments
by Anonymous

If the above comment contains any ads, links, or breaks Literotica rules, please report it.

There are no recent comments (2 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (2)

Add a
Comment

Post a public comment on this submission (click here to send private anonymous feedback to the author instead).

Post comment as (click to select):

You may also listen to a recording of the characters.

Preview comment

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel