Phantom Footfalls

Phantom Footfalls

My shuffling gait on the floor of my room,
When my slippers scuff the old hardwood planks,
Brings echoing forth a sonic heirloom,
From a time when dark footsteps were mind pranks.
My pillow is near the attic stairway;
A steep, almost ladder with vocal treads.
They whisper of footfalls both night and day,
As the ancient construction shrinks and spreads.
I can hear our house breathe on long, cold nights,
As warmth dissipates through papery walls;
And winter winds whistle through tiny sites,
To sing with the draughts in stairwells and halls.
Their songs awaken stark, unreasoned fears,
When phantom footfalls touch shivery ears.

Mick McKellar
March 2016

Old houses tell tales and sing of silent spirits. Wind songs whisper along empty halls and footfalls haunt long, chilly nights.

Mick