Abandoned House, a poem by Rishan Tilve

 Abandoned House

There was a boy, whispered the bed in his room.

A creative one too, called the little scissor on the table.

He was a swimmer, said his goggles.

Liked to travel, said his travel book, which had all the places he had gone in the past,

And he was organized, said the bookshelf filled with books, notebooks, and folders.

He had a big sister, said the wooden door.

She was studious, remarked her white desk filled with pencil marks and eraser shavings.

Helpful too, said her cabinet filled with homework assignments.

Liked baking, said the oven filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies,

And an athlete as well, said her bright pink shoes. 

But one day, they were all gone. 

The books on the desk were untouched,

The door was left ajar, 

The travel book was left in the closet, and not in the hands of the traveler,

And the paper was left with a tiny pencil, hanging on the edge of the counter.