“Bleak House” by Elisabeth Vodola

The snow glistened grayly,
Rising in steep banks;
The car padded daily
Within its narrow flanks.

The route was like a moonscape,
Under the citrus light;
The snow took on an eerie shape
As day gave way to night.

The house an uncertain haven,
Its door an uncertain guard,
The past always ready to raven
My brain, an explosive's shard.