Tricks

Freeform Poem

It is too dark in here.
The corridors twist and turn,
I'm lost.

The shadows are pink, blue, gold.
The light plays tricks,
Photos scattered on the floor
Like paper snowflakes,
Each one unique -
I slide past them
Like a ball bearing in a
Maze, trapped, rattling
Endlessly
In its wooden box.

The doors are all broken.
The locks have gone -
I can't shut out the cold,
I'm lost.

The doors bang
Restlessly
In the wind, sweeping
Through these corridors
Of photos,
Of memories.

Too dark.
The windows are frozen shut,
Glass grubby with
Decades of decay.
Empty rooms soak up
The shadows,
The light,
The pinks, blues, golds -

Playing tricks -
I'm lost.