Be There

Be there
Would you

Until the bookshelves
Stand barren

And the walls
Reveal secrets

Beneath
Damp and faded
Peeling prints
Of rose

Be there until

The foxes
Have the fireplace

The brambles
Seal the doors

And moths have
Taken residence
In your old
Wedding clothes

Be there
Would you

Until the morning
Does not call

The crusty shades
Like pennies

In the windows
Of our home
Upon the hill

I will be there

In sickness
In health

Til the floors
Become as powder

Like sand between
My toes

And the nails sink
Into antiquity