A Figure Stands There I

the house is in ruins the weeds grow in the tangled ruined garden the toys in the yard are old and cold the door is a jar swings creeks in the absent wind a figure sits in a broken chair bare bulb blare sways silently absently in the chilled night air eyes watch from this house, unknown of ruined deeds something struggles the garden is in weeds here and there bare and burnt toys are stained, strewn, alone broken, faded, frayed tumbling away around the yard, they lay after a wars drone a figure stands there