I remember this house in winter
the stone, shutters, crackled paint
front porch sags, though still willing,
surprisingly sturdy
no light breaks through
windows nailed closed for decades
an interior aged with silt and
unrequited spirits
unable to host a living being
even as she struggles
for anyone without a home
until summer comes and makes it right
after the rains again
clear skies reflect a door, opened
hope and welcome from her ghosts
