Alone, it stands lifeless,
Where times ago it was filled with vibrancy
Given it by children who were born there,
Grew up and sought their fortune,
By owners who improved their lot and built elsewhere,
By friends who came and to the fiddle,
Stepped the floor.
Weathered, paintless clapboard, glassless
Windows, battered one hinged door, smokeless
Stone chimney have all seen better days.
He had been so proud when they had called it quits,
Stood back and toasted their masterpiece
With dogberry wine.
She could not hide her tears of joy
As he carried her across the threshold
Of their young lives,
That evening dreams ago.
Now it leans in uselessness, alone,
Deserted in that overgrown garden
Of memories.