In a House of Many Years

Piet Mondrian

Piet Mondrian

There are fewer doors
in a house of many years
through which guests enter
and there are fewer windows
through which sunlight flows
casting ever longer shadows
onto floors of fewer rooms
filled with far fewer chairs
threadbare from wear

Whereas on the shelves
in the room of many years
the volumes pile ever higher
filled with words multiplied
in lenses ground ever thicker
for eyes growing ever frailer
and lamplight ever brighter
in the room of many years
which has but one door

“Poetry is my love, my postmark,
my hands, my kitchen, my face.” ~ Anne Sexton


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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3 Responses to In a House of Many Years

  1. Maureen says:

    …but true. Great poem


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