blather
the_century's_passage
birdmad seen in the corroded iron

the spurs that hang on inside the garage door with the other odd relics

it cleaves away in little flakes

not so many ghosts as echoes

the things that ring clearest in memory

grandfather tinkering in that space, his little dogs always around his feet

this house has not been here that long, but some of it's contents have

echoes
040223
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