Floor Boards

by stewart


It has been a long winter

With a very late spring;

The furnace in our house

Strains to warm the night.

As I pace on cold floor  

The wood creaks, shifting with my weight.


Long has this house stood

Through storm and sunshine;

Bending with each season.

Tonight the boards are especially tired:

I feel their pain

And listen to their soft moan.

Yet, they remain in place

Holding to their function.


I hear there is a market for aged wood;

Someday this floor will be replaced

Finding another use.

For now, bending and straining,


Reaching out to a spring

That is long overdue.


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