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May 26, 2015

The Haunting Remains. {Poem}

 old barn

Hills like green waves

Added their usual drama,
To the patient landscape.
The solemn barn,
Door sagging open,
As if it had sighed
Its last exhale.
The faded red tractor,
Which held you while you held me,
With gentle yet weathered hands.
Chipped white paint like eggshells,
On the home
Where so much had been.

Decades old air,
Musty, but yours.
Your memories sealed,
Inside old wooden walls.
Echoes haunt,
Resonating,
Still vibrating.
Sounds of you,
Naïve laughter of the many children,
Soft utterances of both pleasure and affliction,
Footsteps on the wooden floor.

The dust brought with it its sweet wisdom,
Caressing all that remained
Like a silken blanket.
Saying, “Now, now…”
A tattered photo of you,
Just a child,
Dark eyes young,
Yet timeless.
Curious yet cautious,
A glimpse,
Comforting but fleeting.
That sense of knowing,
You are not gone.
Rest.

 

 

Author: Katie Vessel

Editor: Renée Picard

Image: David Morris at Flickr 

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