Spirit House 1998Hills of flowers, white and gold,
Deserted homestead, someone’s old
Neglected mansion, full of dreams
Long abandoned; now it seems
That only I am here to see—
That only I am now set free.
The family’s gone; a tire swing
Idly waits what storms will bring,
A nest of robins, a rusted gate,
No childish laughter, it’s too late.
The dog has died; the cats are feral—
Alone I whisper, “My name is Carol.”
Father, mother, sister gone,
Leaves are turning, time moves on.
Houses fall and barns decay,
Weeds take over, ghosts still play.
In the pasture autumn leaves lie,
Scattered like memories, a silent goodbye.
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