Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

another icy night, this old building singing it's age old song....

like that
yeah, just like that

Good poem. Enjoyed.

the music of winter nights
the house is just as alive as you are
it moans when it is cold
it cries when the wind whips its ass

thank the stars we are not homeless
that we can welcome the sounds
we know belong to a place with a roof
that keeps out the rain and snow

and the heater hums,
she hums
and we are thankful that she hums along
her hum means we are OK


you got me going there, mark

ya know im beginning to "really" think this old place is haunted....

The "old" places know how to live. They've done it over and over.

68degrees