Sitting bare for months
waiting for someone,
or two someones
or a whole family
of someones
to walk into its chill
and blankly austere
rooms and not see
an empty old house
a collection rooms
naked of furniture
chilled with the cold
absence of daily doings
just patiently waiting
with the quiet heavy
loneliness a house
without its people
desperately emotes.
Until a couple of someones
enter and begin seeing
mental arranging furniture
the couch would fit there
and the kitchen table
under that fan,
maybe a new blue
hue for that wall
and wouldn’t the orchids
just look amazing
in the bay window.