The house on the middle of the street©
Copyright 2013
By Felina Silver Robinson
You walk up to the house dead center on our street
It appears cheerful and happy on the outside
Aligned with flowers and small trees
Even a bench for sitting and a bird bath to keep you watching
It’s warm and inviting
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The stairs cry at each step until you reach the top
You open the screaming screen door and you wonder
If it is a warning for what may lie ahead
But the entry way is so homey
Filled with flowers and the smell of lilacs in the air
You are peacefully encouraged to continue towards the front door
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Greeted with a smile and such a feeling of warmth
You are happy to enter
Despite the cheery entry
There is suddenly a lack of wholesomeness
Not from your hostess but by the house itself
It seems not to want you there
But you wonder if this feeling is just you
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You begin to wonder as you sit in the living room
sipping your herbal tea
The room suddenly gets colder even though it’s 70 degrees
You can’t explain the feeling
So you just try to ignore it
But your tea-cup stars moving while in the palm of your hand
Your skirt is now wet
Your hostess offers you a quick change
You answer no thanks
I think I have to be going
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You gather your belongings quite quickly
You leave quicker than you came
You leave without thanking your hostess
Oh what a shame
The front door slams itself behind your
The stairs cry louder as you run past them
You don’t bother to look back
Henceforth you decide not to walk that street again
But you find yourself wondering for a moment if it might have all been a dream
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My poem was inspired by one of my favorite songs.
