Porch Shivers

house of white-gray with tall, skinny stairway filled with ghosts in screened attic nooks cobwebs in the corners too many windows dark and foreboding ready to snatch your soul constantly watching over shoulder to back alley door below mammoth pine tree front yard protector boughs hung low brushed debris from porch with one blow



It is you. From a time where the grasses stood tall and swayed in the wind. Whistling a path back home past the dandelions.

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