He stood along side
the dusty road,
familiarity bred
contempt for what
he saw across
fields of yellow wheat.
The old house stood
forlorn
abandoned to memories
that refused to be
rebuilt into pleasant
thoughts.
Cedar shakes fall
down into what was
a room, where animosity
and repulsion played games
of love and tenderness.
Hidden amongst the
waving grass
lies a door,
long fallen from its hinges,
to be used no more
as a portal into
what should have been
safety.
Glass mason jars,
stacked in rickety old
cupboards,
carry nothing but dust,
a glimpse of the only hope
this place has for the future.
Haunting creaks and moans
echo up a derelict
staircase, a warning to
anyone who dares enter.
Nothing has changed,
misery abides in darkness.
Nowhere to hide,
no protection from
the elements.
Windows have long been
shattered like the dreams
of the boy who once
called this place
home.
Alas, he stood on the road,
tears on his wind-swept
cheeks. The memory of
running, the thrill
of the escape as
that old house was
engulfed in the flames
of his broken heart.
Thoughts. makes me want to reach out and hug the boy. welcome back sir! :)
ReplyDeletedang...you really set the character of this house and what happened...even just in this one stanza...really well wrought piece...
ReplyDeleteThe old house stood
forlorn
abandoned to memories
that refused to be
rebuilt into pleasant
thoughts.
a really clear picture painted of the abandoned house that once was a home.
ReplyDelete"a room, where animosity
ReplyDeleteand repulsion played games
of love and tenderness."
Very fine!
Excellent images throughout.