Coming home to an empty house

Tread carefully,
a snail on the doorstep,
a spider in the hall.
A silverfish scuttles
under the kitchen units.
A woodlouse half way
across the lounge carpet.
A bluebottle cruises
from room to room.
A pigeon rummages
in the creeper outside
my bedroom window.
On the dressing table
Buddha holds his peace.

One Response

  1. Excellent poem Jonathon. Our houses aren’t as ’empty’ as we think! Very evocative and easy to see all those creatures scuttling. Lovely last two lines.

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