Nomads Poem by M.C. Bruce

She brought her ghosts with her
When she came to this house.
She knows by the way the hound
Glares and growls at a space above
The television, hackles raised.

It was a little tract house before she came,
Charming in its anonymity
Quiet and undisturbed in its long
Unlonging days and unflinching nights.

Now in some corners of a room
Sad desire appears and disappears
Strange sounds stumble in the dark
As if something is unfamiliar with the way

The furniture is arranged. 'You've brought
Them with you, '. I tell her. She shrugs.
'I wouldn't be surprised, ' she says.
And someone in the corner sighs.