ten years ago
they said she should pull it down
it's not worth restoring
she fell in love with it
this ole house had a story
this ole house had a story
she dreamt it would be hers
prospective buyers
stayed in their cars drove off in disgust
whispers of the past called to her
whispers of the past called to her
the flushed face of the woman
cooking on the fuel stove
in extreme heat babies crying
washing on the verandah
washing on the verandah
drying in the breeze the wind
blowing in from the plains
whistling a wail of sadness
as the sun begins to set
as the sun begins to set
the men cross the paddock
on their way homewards
how many before have stood at this window
looking out at the plains wondering
There is something haunting about looking out at the plains.. love the wistfulness in your words.
ReplyDeleteThe house in the photo is archetypal; have seen it so often around the country. And the poem fills in the details perfectly.
ReplyDeleteGirl, this is GOOD!!!
ReplyDeleteI can close my eyes and see certain places where I have lived - that were more than just residences - they seem to live within me. Beautiful poem.
ReplyDelete"this ole house had a story
ReplyDeleteshe dreamt it would be hers "
- this is beautiful....we always make so many memories..!
Old houses do have so many stories. Haunting and sad. I hope she makes it a home again.
ReplyDelete