Broken Windows

How can the old house still stand
when everyone has gone
Doesn’t it know
Hasn’t it heard
Can’t someone please explain
that its past is no longer prologue
It’s now…not then… again

No more laughter in the stairwell
no cars honking in the lane
the furnace rusts
in the basement
kids have long since moved away
so there’s no one else to remember
the tears…the joys…the days

Just an old house in the field
with broken windows
busted doors on rusty hinges
no one would have predicted
this gloomy vignette
Who will know
once I forget