The Mending


overgrown house

My world abandoned, Nature makes amends.

A wild confusion grows at my front door.

The mutterings of children heard no more.

Beneath her gnarled roots a sallow floor.

 

Vines grab the windows once held curtain’s sway.

With ghostly tread, cold silence roves her halls.

No more the scent of Jasmine blossom calls.

What mystery escapes these stucco walls?

 

What place is this once held such loveliness?

Mad roots now rave and overrun my past.

They strangle wistful longings of the heart

and love’s become a stranger for my part.

 

I hear the moan; that suffocating tease.

My past grows pale; the withered vine my frieze.