Cellar Holes

We used to hike abandoned roads O’er which they once hauled heavy loads. Roads deserted, now ragged lines Just deep ruts between the pines. Stone walls still trace these rugged tracks Defining paths to there and back. Meandering trails now no one roams But long ago they lead to homes No longer there, those long lost souls Their homes in ruins, now cellar holes. Just stone-lined pits where homes once stood Now overgrown with cottonwood. Whenever we would chance upon These silent ghosts of homes long gone We’d take the time to look around And find small fragments on top the ground Shards of china, bricks and nails Broken bottles, rusted pails Window glass and hand-forged ware Tiny clues of those once there We’d close our eyes and listen for The sounds of feet on forest floor Of children playing where we sat Of dogs, and chicks, and barnyard cats Although there’s no one living there The lilacs’ fragrance still fills the air The apple trees still fruit each year Their bounty now enjoyed by deer The roses bloom though left untended Day lilies share their beauty splendid Johnny Jump-Ups still add their glory To spring’s awaited renewal story The family gone, their memories faded Their homestead now by woods invaded We pray for those departed souls For all they left were cellar holes