There Was a House

There was a house,

of great windows

and doors,

built as close

to the edge,

as could be.

 

It held this place,

and us,

for the years

it took,

to become

part of our blood.

 

Then,

leveled,

on a day,

of clouds

and eerie gusts,

at least

that is how,

I remember it.

 

And now

I know,

that I’ve been looking,

for a house,

like the one 

on the edge,

one that could 

hold me,

the way

our home did.

 

One came close,

but it’s gone,

too.

 

The house on the edge,

will ride my blood,

until the day,

my heart,

no longer knows,

there ever,

was one.

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