Built a year ago,
It stands, fresh and bright:
No crackled paint,
No broken panes –
Not a flaw in sight.
The floors are too well-made to
Creak,
The wiring, too good to
Flicker,
And the furnace kicks on instantly
To fight off the sudden
Chills.
There’s not a sign,
Not a sound,
No hint of what’s in store:
Like rot lurking behind the bark,
Or death, beneath the floor.
October 31, 2016
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