Spirit Checking

[Mark A Becker]

Spirit Checking

My childhood home
feels so foreign now.

The living room
echoes, hollowed out;

your easy chair
thread-bare, from hard nights.

Stale, musty air
smells like hidden mice.

I take one last look,
then turn off the lights.

Spirit Checking

My childhood home
feels foreign now somehow.

The living room
sounds hollow emptied out.

Your easy chair
looks worn out from hard nights.

The very air
smells rank with hidden mice.