The old house hums
Creaks
And buzzes
Waking up on a chilly
March morning
Only weeks left until moveout
Temporary abode turnaround
A life in the arts bring about
Uncertainties
For the sake of art though
Certainly
Chimes bustle
Take away
And give back
To move forward
And never look back
A Cup of Songwriting 
Is this a veiled metaphorical poem about death?
Thanks for the comment – this is about departure from a place – that has been an anchor through times of death and growth. It eludes to life as well and the brisk encounters we have and how quickly we move on. Have a great day. N8