the patchwork trellis
where wildflowers grow
and ivy
and wisteria
the stranglers
it arches over
the darkened doorway
with broken glass
and weathered wood
splinters protruding
mud and green mold

the walkway
is covered in leaves
weeds...debris
no shoes tread
here anymore
the big picture windows
are all broken
as if a huge
brick had been
thrown through
no doubt rats
roam inside
maybe roaches
searching for that
last speck
of decayed food
from a meal
prepared
once with love
long ago

the hollow wind whistles
as it blows past
the tall golden grass
and into the many
breaks and tears
flying through
the cold house
cobwebs sewn
so carefully everywhere
and dust piled
way up high
over the sheets
that cover
the furniture
stained from
the many rains
that have intruded since
the smell the stench
overwhelms

the ghosts
can be seen
if you look
very carefully
they'll look
back at you
with sad long faces
and crying eyes
tears that never
quite reach
the ground

embroidery
hangs on the wall
crooked and yet
very colorful
it has a house
and flowers
and words
carefully stitched
it says
"home sweet home"

and we zoom out
from the house
well past the hole
in the rooftop
and the all
the giant trees
their roots
playfully trying to pry
the home from its foundation

and the birds tweet
flitting in and out
intrigued
by the darkness
a sad song
from a time long
gone by
on a broken phonograph
somehow plays
a forgotten dance.

(tweet me @whispurr)