at one time, I would steal away
to the solitude of my warm bed
and watch the trees bow to the gods
while muses danced in my head

at one time, friends would follow me
they would come in without knocking
with a peace offering of a cup of tea
while they let all the heat out my door

at one time, we would watch the storm
perhaps reading our books quietly
or lying together and talking
of the countries we'd like to see

at one time, candles burned themselves out
and dishes waited in the sink for me
as I lost myself in something gothic
and completely ignored literary theory

at one time, I knew this as my place
it was my haven while I tasted hell
I belonged here with those I loved
those I love still, and trust as well

but now, my door is locked to me
this house is not my home
and though I am welcomed here
I am quite alone