Time Among Objects

Time breathes among the furniture,
objects whispering to the rhythm of the rain.
The house holds its breath and drowns in silence,
turning every corner into breathing memory.
The kitchen becomes a sea of napkins and sails,
cups and plates hang down like seashells.
The table is a hull, the chair a sail,
and the lamp a moon guiding the house’s waves.
When the rain beats down, the dwelling expands,
memory navigates past open doors.
The floor recounts paths left within time,
and the house remains a sea of breathing memory.