Wandering Spirit

There is a spirit in the house next door.

A spirit that wanders the world in wonder,

in search of something more.

The spirit next door, comes and goes

as quick as the winter wind blows.

Inviting up person after person to come in to

its humble abode.

Ear tuned for the distinctive streak,

another fixated on the metronome sound

caused by father times fast moving hand.

One eye peeled for the bright-light twinkle,

another with a stern gaze

at father times slipping hand.

Skittish, hustle paced racing descent down the stairs;

Out the door the person goes.,.

just in time, so it thought, before

the distinctive streak

bright-light twinkle,

and father times stern hand.

There is a wandering spirit in the house next door.

A spirit that wanders the world in wonder,

in search of something more…

Sadly, last-night the red and blue swirling lights,

chain bound man walking beyond the glare of the lights,

sitting now behind the grate.

Curve-level raising stretcher,

morbid-unfazed glove-dressed man and woman,

moving the wandering spirit out the door.

There is a wandering spirit in the house next door.

A wandering spirit that wanders no more.