Wings of brass and gold and dust
Stretched across the windows must
Bend and break with wind and rain
Proving antiquated things

Curtains torn with lacey past
Reminding me that nothing lasts
Quiver in the dawn of night
As mist steals thoughts of warmth and light.

The floors are sighing with the change
From heat to cold as thoughts remain
In heavens sharp with glittered stars
I can see from windows far

Removed from such celestial heights
An antique house- an antique life
The stories buried in these walls
Are silent as the mirrored halls

That once upon a past proclaimed
Nothing ever stays the same.

~EK/SD 9.28.05