vanished house that for an hour I knew
some forgotten chance when I was young
once a glimmering window overhung
honeysuckle wet with evening dew.
the path tall dusky dahlias grew,
shadowy hydrangeas reached and swung
and over me, among
moths and mysteries, a blurred bat flew.
within there were dim presences
days that hovered and of years gone by.
waited, and between their silences
was an evanescent faded noise;
though a child, I knew it was the voice
one whose occupation was to die.