Eight-line Poems

Mortality

Mortality

Here in the hallway I await the call,
passing the time in studying the portraits
of family greats in more prosperous years,
weapons and instruments, heirlooms
displayed as memories of the ages,
antique furniture, once loved, now tired,
last station before the fall of the house.
Dreams of greatness passed, I wait.


Line Count: 8
Free Verse
For Express It In Eight, December 23 2020
Prompt: Hallway.