Put up your walls Set support beams against the storm String wires Take light to empty rooms: You at the table Me at the edge of the earth Insulate them entirely Plaster everything inside Paint all four three-coats deep But know that when you leave I can still punch a hole And let the years pour out The walls will stand and sing songs The ceiling will sag with stories About what was— The fall evening I held your hand While everything fell apart Blood moon at the door Winter winds in the windows Phone ringing into the floor Walls whispering To an empty home
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BIO: Andrew got his start in the word business delivering Warren Buffett’s newspaper. Now he makes a living as a freelance writer working on commercials. He also writes poetry, prose and text messages.