poem for the day: the house

This is not one of my micropoems. What can I say. It came to me whole like this. Sure, I could have broken the lines up. Three lines today and three tomorrow and that would have fit my criteria for a micropoem. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized this was one poem and not two. Anyway, the thought came to me that houses, haunted or otherwise, are like people. They have their own personalities.

I throw the bed covers
off my sleepy body,
feed the cat her morning grub,
setting the house in motion.
The house resists. Like me,
it wants one last doze.