This house is older than anyone alive
though we try to keep it up well
It tells me secrets in the night
The wind rustles the shutters
The floorboards sometimes creak
The soft earth shifts beneath it
while I lay still but am moved
There are ghosts in the corners
There are stories in every room
There was mischief in the kitchen
and fierce lovemaking in the hallway
I call out to the spirits during the day
and avoid their wanderings at night
I want to help them all find peace
yet I fear their brazen tantrums
I live with many ghosts in my house
But houses are only briefly used
Most last longer than the owners do
Maybe the spirits now feel entitled
Maybe they just want to be used
