I do not inhabit this place
though I walk the rooms
shake out the sheets
and chase the dust
from the corners
where it congregates
every time I look away
this strange floor feel
beneath bare feet
even my toes know
it is not home
without worn wood
and moldings older
than I
once more
the partitioning of boxes
the categorizing of myself
and what can be stored
which pieces I need
in order to breathe
one step closer
one floor nearer
to home
© Sarah Whiteley
ebbtide 
This was beautiful and really set a mood.
Pearl
LikeLike
love the word “congregates”..and you know? im in the real estate business and this would be a perfect poem for some sort of marketing piece 😉 i do think poetry has a place in any given profession.
LikeLike
Not quite what I had in mind, but LOL!
LikeLike
I must agree with Pearl this is just a beautiful poem..the last stanza reminded me of when I moved out to SoCal…seeing my life in boxes with the appropriate label on them…thanks for this poem!
LikeLike
thank you!
LikeLike
your words have the tenderness to take me with you on your walk on the floor and around..
LikeLike
I’m glad you felt it
LikeLike