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
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