The Little Room

By Rebeccah Ressler


The smell of dying flowers pierces the air

There is heaviness in the room

The sound of the radio murmurs in the background

The dim light from the lamp dances across the miss-matched posters

Shadows creep from corners and over clothes left unfolded

The room sits in disarray

The shoes that were once worn sit by the chair of a piano in solitude

The closet is cracked open as if someone is watching

Change is scattered on the side table glimmering in the dim light

The windows are dotted with rain

There are voices coming from downstairs

The music blurs out the surroundings

The shadows will grow taller and turn into darkness

Only then the room will sleep another night

A blue glow from the moon will illuminate the quiet furniture

The sound of the rain will continue its song against the windows

The room will sit in its somber when a new day has begun