Old White House

An old house sits
In a field of long yellow grass.
The field must be still planted sometimes.
It’s not started to get overgrown
Even at the edges.
The house though, hasn’t seen anyone for a while.
You can just tell.
The paint used to be white.
It’s peeling now and yellowing.
One old oak stands near
And the house slumps a little,
Leaning in, I guess, toward the tree,
The only friend left from the old days.
The glass from the windows is gone,
Slowly turning back to sand buried in the grass
Or in larger shards on the floor inside.
The door still stands
Violating expectations by not dangling from one hinge.
It feels like kids once played here,
Under the tree,
Running through that sturdy old door,
And staring out of the windows when it rained.
A man probably once came in from work
Wearing his hat
(because all men wore hats then)
But always taking it off inside.
Surely many meals were cooked in the kitchen off the back.
There had to be laughing
And crying.
Once this house was new and
Life happened in and around it.
Storms beat down on the wood,
Sound and fury signifying…
Signifying the reason houses are built.
Summer suns baked the boards.
Winter winds chilled them.
Years press down.

The people are gone.
The storms and sun and wind still come
But the important thing;
The thing that’s really important;
Is that the house still stands.

Sometimes still standing is enough.


5 thoughts on “Old White House

  1. Ok, so now I’m at work while one solitary tear falls down my cheek. I think of the woman who touched me most in life and of the dilapidated state of what she left behind. From the once homestead filled with love and laughter to the sad, abandoned house she worked so hard for. The blood, sweat, and tears she invested rearing a family and putting all she had into it… the wonderful feeeling of accepting all that as mine now. To be able to slowly put back some of the life into those old boards that hold much of my history. thank you for seeing what I felt no one would be able to. The feeling that an old home wants to share… sometimes you scare me…. Thank you.

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