Two Stairways
A 1906 house surely must harbor a ghost or two
Surely these walls have seen enough death and sorrow to yield
A scream from the attic, a slammed door
The unexplained knock, the flickering candle,
The scent of roses in the parlor
None of these signs yet, though I have lain awake, uneasy
Many nights. Thrown off blankets, wrapped myself in silk
Tiptoed down the hall, then, at the landing
A decision:
The carpeted staircase for madame’s grand entry, or
The narrow back stairway, leading to the kitchen?
Both mistress and maid of this house, I meet myself when
Stars vanish and moonlit clouds of August puzzle the sky,
Fans whirl, dogs turn and sigh, leaves consider their end
Reminding me that, for this brief time, I share this shelter with
Those spirits who have come before, and those bound to follow.
Sharon Niederman@2010
