Holcomb, by Tricia Marcella Cimera

Holcomb

Tonight, after the men leave,
this white farmhouse is like
a poem      about Quiet.
Softly ticking clocks.  Faucet
dripping.         Dripping.
Photographs on the piano
smiling     at no one.
Polished floors     uncreaking.
Telephone     unringing.
Purse gaping on the floor.
Outside, fields stretch
out below the moon.
Animals shift in their stalls.
Farmhouses in the country
always seem to mind their own
business, keep their mouths shut.
 
In the morning — Sunday
before church — two girls will
walk up the staircase of this
silent house, call Nancy?
approach her bedroom,
the door standing open
inviting them in to      see.

Tricia Marcella Cimera

This poem first appeared in 22-5.

It was inspired by Truman Capote's In Cold Blood.

Tricia Marcella Cimera is a Midwestern poet with a worldview. Look for her work in these diverse places (some forthcoming): Anti-Heroin Chic, Buddhist Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Failed Haiku, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Mad Swirl, Silver Birch Press, The Bees are Dead, Wild Plum and elsewhere.  She has two micro collections, THE SEA AND A RIVER and BOXBOROUGH POEMS, on the Origami Poems Project website.  Tricia believes there’s no place like her own backyard and has traveled the world (including Graceland).  She lives with her husband and family of animals in Illinois / in a town called St. Charles / by a river named Fox and keeps a Poetry Box in her front yard.