The Hall After Grandma died the hall became a skeleton, stripped and cream. With the hats and coats gone, the pegs exposed rib-like, I see their detail: two knobs like porcelain eye balls, the others with the expected swell of necks. The only colour in the cream is an old red iron holding back a door. Even the kitchen through the door frame is milky. A mustard cup and painted flowers on a jug quiet on the dresser.     Lounge Room Lying on the autumn carpet the window is split into four frames of sky, the clouds poised as…