The Cloak Worn

Loneliness is the cloak worn on the door by the wooden porch steps that hang like shadows from the house that cried paint flakes drip from the sill of a shattered window like falling tears that come from the weathered whispers of emptiness which has torn its heart out for years the roof has fallen in various places leaving its walls exposed to the wind and rain ravaging its once held beauty of an oak staircase with a hand carved rosette the sun shines now on its mold invested lost days not the once lush garden of ferns boardered by flowers that always bloomed near the stone path once a house of life where the living were held in comfort...now no one is concerned for its care its a garbage dump from those passing by their trash has eaten out its soul over time a sad reminder of the circle of life 7/17/20 contest Decaying House sponsor Constance La France