The Hallowed House, poetry by Paul Vincent Cannon at
Gary Meulemans

The Hallowed House

The Hallowed House

written by: Paul Vincent Cannon



Strange the night of
cold glass panes that reveal no light,
or the darkened doorway with its dried leaf mat,
conscious of the sounds of dragging a foot behind,
knowing the frail gate will not hold advance,
the house defenceless in its leaning age
with creaking boards and breathing walls,
tendrils of beelzebub’s vine
creeping through its wizened vents,
followed by the rattle of eaves
as hallows fiends seek a way in.
It’s late now and the raven speaks,
reminding me to close the book and rescue sleep,
this time I leave the light and pull the sheets,
lest I fall to this night of frights
and join the souls.

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