Victorian House
Several unforgiving encounters later,
an insistent hand on the small of my back edges
me toward the solemn house of my nightmares
Curiously drawn forth, I peer into the gloom
of a yellowed parlor cradling the last
remnants of the story they tried to silence – you
descended the grinning stairway, succumbed
to the flames and that was the end. And yet –
the wood remembers, as it always has.
A Turn of Events
Yesterday’s forgotten lament
saunters in with the storm, a
grand entrance assuming greatness
Laissez les bons temps rouler!
echoes faintly from vaulted ceilings
as Ms. Kane’s lilting voice cradles
the ensemble’s wistful notes
encapsulating the hope of an era
that taunts us a century later
A memory of stolen kisses
darting through elegant parlors,
we are the quiet witnesses
to innocence relinquished
while all around, the spirits of
old Hollywood ingénues still hide
themselves within the glamour of it all
having forgotten that they, too,
had once come to this place to fall apart
unwilling to give up the ghost
they cling to the ethereal realm
glide past unfazed, faceless
cradling their delicate-stemmed
glasses of dubonnet as
the waltz prevails
Safe as Houses
the fallen decade encased in a lurid foretelling
air heavy with the spicy aroma of old cigars, dust
an aberrant path strewn with incantations
haunted souls have yet to fully utter; the unknown
permeates the quickening bloodstream
disrupting illusory pockets of complacency
only the unlucky few stumble upon the secret door
leading to worlds commemorating the lost, portals
beckoning then shutting on a moment’s whim
while in the ears that tinny familiar record plays on
Melody Wang (she/her) currently resides in sunny Southern California with her dear husband. In her free time, she dabbles in piano composition and also enjoys hiking, baking, and playing with her dogs. She is a reader for Sledgehammer Lit and tweets @MelodyOfMusings
photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen (via unsplash)
Crow & Cross Keys 