The White House
the violet flowers
were brightest at dusk
surrounded by an unkept yard
they built their own landscape
coming only once a year
after months of ice
they bloomed from the ground
only at this house
the windows smashed
the white paint peeling
but there wasn't an empty feeling.
the house; abandoned, yet not forgotten
...and the violet flowers
were something to mask
the terrible things
of the house's past.
Copyright © Amy Kramer | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment