I remember a house
On the high road in Amesbury
Right at the top
By the roundabout.
The house had hollow windows
And no one cut the grass
But someone lived there.
Sometimes musty curtains
Blotted out the sun
And once I glimpsed a pale face
Darting past the drapes.
I wonder now
Whether they glimpsed back.
A funny boy I must have looked
All spiky hair and shiny shoes
Marching on to school.
thirstybirdpoems 