Footsteps

The house breathes with every season
Inhale, exhale, a breath, a stutter
It swells, it withers, it expands, it sighs
Inhale, exhale, hold it, sigh

The hardwood its mouth and nose
Pieces cracking and closing
Popping, exploding, erupting down the hall

Would it be footsteps or the breathing
Whatever walks up and down back and forth
Like me
A friend?
Or like me
A foe?

Who walks up and down back and forth?
With frustrated footsteps and breathing
Finally, is it you?
Coming to me?
Or is it you, Sickly?

This time, the footsteps and the breathing
It’s me who walks up and down back and forth

In service rather than affection
To a patient rather than creator
One to be nurtured rather than nurturer

Is it selfish-
Of me
It is selfish 
Of me?