Changes
Desk with open book and tea cup.
Upside down whirl winds through the window—
Cracks in the ceiling
A broken vase
Silent moments Remember the days
Dusty books–and yellow pages
Falling off shelves into darker places
Old wood floors that were shiny clean
Set a mood for this new scene
Fingers running along a dusty edge
Ripped pages that are long dead
Dripping candle wax that use to shine
A clock in mourning thinking of the times
A cobweb net in the corner
trying to hold on to the wall
The room that was quite small
A window open-so light seeps through–
Through the cracks and past the broken shoes
Rushes against a current
The cycle of the rain, the thunder, then the lightning
Rain— thunder— lightning
Past the chain- breaking and yet making
Fates ironic game
The little room is swept clean
Now crystal-like in its gleam
The little room’s door has a crack underneath
So thin not even a sheet
Can slip through
The brass door knob is cool
A simple turn and one small step
The room has been neatly swept
Glowing yellow lamps
Shiny shelves and colorful books
red, blue, green…
The cobwebs out of the dusty nooks
floorboard nails all fixed
An inviting smell of warmth
A gilded vase mended with gold
It’s fresh and new
Yet still the same, it was always there
Just not in my way
Who could take such a place?
And make it into this?
Look what the light did
Olivia Lipson ‘25, Creative Writing Editor
