By Kristene Brown

 

Rockhill Ridge

Steps from Crestwood

Stone porch bungalow

 

High on hill

Statue sturdy and

Tall as a steeple

 

Tear washed walls

Blood bloom in

Dry sweat red room

 

The rib curve

Of a wooden floor

Worn, worn

 

To the bare bones

Polished gleam

Rolling acorn brown

 

Century old

Splintered sealed

Breathing under foot

 

Geometrical web

Pulse stepping my

Way to bed

 

House held, rocked

Slowly, such safety

Like a soft prelude

 

Of bedtime stories

In the childhood

Church of home

 

_________________

Kristene Brown is a writing student at the University of Missouri Kansas City. She has been previously published in The Unrorean and Amphibi.us. She is also a psychiatric social worker for the state of Kansas.

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Posted by Mel. View all posts by Mel
Saturday, October 22nd, 2011 12:14 am
Categories: Current: 5.4, Poetry