Wallpaper peels in curls from walls that remember picture frames
Thin piano wire rusts inside cases whose lids no one lifts
Dusty chandeliers hang over tables set for guests who never came
Old calendars stay open on months the house stopped counting
Toys lie half buried in grass where a yard once stayed mown
Rocking chairs creak on porches that outlasted the family
Cold radiators knock in rooms where no one answers
Shoes wait by doors that haven't opened in a decade
Mirrors hold the dust of faces that stopped looking in
Recipe cards fade on refrigerators that quit humming
