Atop a small hill
Above a busy four lane road,
Stood a brown house
Amidst bare trees
Heavy-barked and old.
Empty mailbox.
Empty window frames.
Rusted door lock.
I always wondered,
Did someone write to say,
"I'm coming home"?
Did someone cry,
Kiss the letter,
Take the good china down?
Were they young?
Was the feather bed soft?
Did she say, "I'm three months on"?
Why did they leave?
Where did they go?
I'll never know.
The hill is empty.
There's just the moon.
The house is gone.
This reminds me of an empty house I used to walk by on my way to school and wonder about. Why that house and not another? Sometimes things are stronger in absence than in presence.
ReplyDelete"Did someone cry,
Kiss the letter,
Take the good china down?"
sigh..all the middle stanzas are full of quiet sorrow. Fine tale of the mystery of life and loss.
kinda spooky they took the whole house...def does make you wonder though...
ReplyDeleteA story unknown.
ReplyDeletei used to look at houses i'd pass by at night with lights on in their windows and imagine a happy family within.
ReplyDeletethis is a lovely yet haunting tale. ♥
Were they underwater with their payments? It's this dang housing market!
ReplyDeleteI occasionally drive by this parking lot where our first house once stood after we moved here to the US from Mexico. I slow the car to listen to the cries the laughter me and my seven other siblings once tumbled. It was mother's pride of toil as a single parent. A single and lonely tree stands where once we climbed and sat and covered our eyes leaning against it while the others hid. I know this place. Mother's 'home' is here somewhere.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the nostalgia, Shay.
where did they go ... we'll never know.
ReplyDeleteAh - this was lovely.
ReplyDeleteThis is so sad.
ReplyDeleteI work just half a mile from 12 Mile Road, though it's probably not the same one you refer to here.
ReplyDeleteI love the title. I love it all.
ReplyDeleteIt is the very same one, Eric. :-)
ReplyDeleteWhere did I see that house? Oh yeah, it was on the cover illustation of one of my monster models, the Wolf Man smiling wide with those enormous phallic fangorias and that spookhouse on the hill in silhouette behind. I wondered what it was like to live in a house you didn't have to do chores in for, oh, centuries. - Brendan
ReplyDelete