The nonchalant haunt

Does this ring a bell, or how can you tell?

The nonchalant haunt

Just up the street, a structure stands,
Untouched for years by human hands.
The house on the hill
Brings many a chill,
As ev’ry night owl understands.

The peak-ed roof bears barb-ed teeth.
Three prickly pines lurk underneath.
Reality swoons,
As keening wind tunes.
The boldest their own wits bequeath.

The strongest sense no difference brings,
For every breeze gives shingles wings.
With trembles acute,
The solemn salute,
As sneakers suddenly sprout springs.

Some say weird wonders have appeared,
Or apparitions ill-revered.
A fast flash of light
Or creak in the night
Confirm what others long have feared.

One vacant house in any range
Elicits stories weird and strange.
Though nobody’s home,
Still, rumors may roam
Enough to bring our paths to change.
c2016 by Linda Ann Nickerson

This poem was posted in response to these prompts:

Meme Express: “night owl”
Write 31 Days: “different reality”
31 Days of Poetry and Writing: “house on the hill”
Writer’s Workshop: “change”
OctPoWriMo: “sharp” – “prickly,” “barbed,” “peaked,” “acute,” and “keen”

Adapted from Pixabay public domain photo
31 Days logo – created by this user,
including public domain artwork.

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  1. It does ring a bell from my neighborhoods growing up.

  2. Great vivid poetry. And I have so many questions about that structure!

  3. Wow! Powerful images in this work! Perfect October poem! Visiting from Mama Kat...

  4. Spooky! But there is just something so intriguing about vacant houses!