My house breathes
It never stops moving
Furniture skate
From one side of the room
To the other
On smooth stone tile
Every breath she takes
Inhaling
Pulling in dust
That settles across mantles
And knick knacks
She moves in the quiet night
Like an old man
Getting out of his rocker
Every joint cracking
As they release
From their locked settings
Litter boxes
Quickly fill
Catch 22’s
Abound
As dishes touch lips
Sponges
Then lips again
It is never dormant
Always aging
It is a world in which
Nature quickly snatches back
Replacing
Pristine organization
With a steady decay
And I am the caretaker
Tending to the breathing
When Power Consumes, Poetry Cleanses... 
That’s a really creative prose!! Really good about the house. Very true, too. Mom
On Mon, Jul 19, 2021 at 12:17 PM When Power Consumes, Poetry Cleanses… wrote:
> Treyminator posted: ” My house breathesIt never stops movingFurniture > skateFrom one side of the roomTo the otherOn smooth stone tile Every breath > she takesInhalingPulling in dustThat settles across mantlesAnd knick knacks > She moves in the quiet nightLike an old manG” >
Thanks 🙂