Owners and occupants of earlier dates
Come back to-night, treading softly over the grass;
Then with a cry that quavers
Our house, they say; and mine, the cat declares
A haunted house. Tenants unknown
There is no flame can make them warm.
I decided to create another cento as part of the yeah write January poetry slam and was able to answer this week’s ultimate question, “Whose house is this?”, in exactly 42 words. I impressed enough readers to earn a spot in the Top 3.