Figments, Dreams, Or Memories Poem by David Whalen

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Ya’ know

It seems I’ve been here before
Else how could I know
How many steps up… to the door?

Just which plank would squeak
Beneath my feet…The porch swing
That hangs there no more

The bell push dark tarnished
The door stripped of varnish
Seems I’ve crossed this threshold before

E’en the doves that sob softly
In the trees…seem to me
Fairly familiar… and what’s more

The shutters aslant at a perilous cant
By sides of window sash
That hold glass…no more

Have I trod away on the sod
That cuddles this house
Looked back and bade it nevermore?

My memory is confused
and time has abused it
So I truly can’t be sure…anymore

Back down the stoop
My shoulders adroop
One last look o’er my shoulder, , , no more!

Ya’ know it no longer matters
That both my memory and
The house are in tatters

But so it surely seems…
It could not have been in my dreams?
No! I’m quite sure that I’ve been here
…before…

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