Of A House Rebuilt

A man gives up life
Like an old radio
With a cracked leather case
That's left unused
In the unfinished
Cottage basement.

What a perfect place
To bury yourself,
Among decades of sawdust
Left from a lifetime
Of tragedies,
All so punctual
And predictable
Like the sound of the train
That woke you up
Every Wednesday night
Until you were nine.

And I'll relive it
On those mornings
When time bends back,
And the whiskey
Gets me wandering
Through halls
Of a house rebuilt.