This poem came to mind

I was wondering around the Idaho countryside, a rural area with old barns and houses, and this Creeley poem snuck into me.

Somewhere

The galloping collection of boards   

are the house which I afforded   

one evening to walk into

just as the night came down.

Dark inside, the candle

lit of its own free will, the attic   

groaned then, the stairs

led me up into the air.

From outside, it must have seemed   

a wonder that it was

the inside he as me saw

in the dark there.