The Rafters

Remember the old A-shaped house?

The one with the castle downstairs

And the spell around it?

It's empty now.

Did you know that?

Little scraps of paper fall like ashes from the rafters.

Remember the Cove with the raft?

The one with all the sea glass?

(We used the stuff as money.)

It’s corroding now.

Did you know that?

High tide scrapes away our savings and picks the locked vaults.

Remember the little kid?

Who smiled your smile with different teeth

And played in the ashes of burning papers?

He’s still smiling.

Did you know that?

He is the one

Making snow angels up there in the rafters.

wph

VT

17 years old

Poetry

By wph

Cameron Winter

1)
I think that when he looks at pianos,
The keys are stained and worn in
With grooves and dents,
In the shapes of his fingerprints,

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Poetry

By wph

The Eldest Game

ghosts of peo / ple hiding in this house / they grew up in and left / hiding under tables in clo / sets long thin men pale pe / ople dark people all hidden / separately in the same room / waiting for the seeker to finis / h counting endlessly endl

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Poetry

By wph

Portrait of a Man Looking Back

He can see kids glowing in the kitchen,
Hands sticky with sweet gossip,
Bright, beautiful little selves smudged by the window that he,
A cracked old statue has broken his hands and fingers by banging on,

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