The Other House David Wagoner (1926- ) As a boy, I haunted an abandoned house Whose basement was always full of dark-green water Or dark-green ice in winter Where frogs came back to life and sang each spring. On broken concrete under the skeleton Of a roof, inside ribbed walls, I listened alone Where the basement stairs went down Under the water, down into their music. During storms, our proper house would be flooded too. The water would spout from drains, through the foundation And climb the basement stairs But silently, and would go away silently, As silent as my father and mother were All day and during dinner and after And after the radio With hardly a murmur all the way into sleep. All winter, the frogs slept in an icy bed, Remembering how to sing when it melted. If I made a sound, they stopped And listened to me sing nothing, singing nothing. But gradually, finally April would come pouring Out of their green throats in a green chorus To chorus me home toward silence. Theirs was the only home that sang all night. --

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