Creaking church

I wrote a lot of stuff when living in a decayed civil war era church on the back roads of Tennessee. This was something in my notebook I hastily wrote after leaving.

 Floorboards creaking

An angel statue weeping

Inside my temporary home

The doors held closed

By a piece of rope

Stained glass windows

Were once in these frames

Replaced by boards

To stop the trespassing hoards

But not I

This is now more than a decaying church

It is now my perch

My coat draped over a pew

Where I sit with a view

Of the cemetery

Where the former patrons are buried

In the isle where many of them were married

Where many were displayed before being carried

To their graves

I lay down at night

I hear the noises of faded laughter

In the rafters

Maybe they mock me

For leaving the city

Showing no pity

For what others have done to me

So the next day

I decide to run away

For a new place

Reviews

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Haunting and beautifully written. Amazing back-story of reality in living in a civil war era church!
" An angel statue weeping"-great imagery. Good rhyme and flow. Honest, moving, sad-"I hear the noises of faded laughter in the rafters." Love this.

[SleeplessVolcano]

Solemn, yet sublime. I am also visiting old churches at the moment, and the memories, or even imaginations which surface, are quite amazing.

[Damien Ridge]

That's an amazing poem, I connected with it having gone place to place in my younger years. But I could just imagine the church you were in and your thoughts/feelings. Thanks for sharing!