Deserted

House snakes have disappeared from the rotten and darkened corn shed. A few dead embers lie near the stove, covered in cinders. On the small windowsill someone forgot a mouse trap. Under the stable’s rafters cobwebs hang heavy catching swallow nest crumbs. The well’s wheel got stuck, silence slithers in the whitewashed wall crevices. At a far distance blue trains sizzle, the river’s waters are swift and murky.
I should better rest in the garden, feeling the earth’s sap dragging me down, hearing old men sharpening their scythes. In those times grasses grew tall and upright. Clouds begin to gather over me, gliding on my back spine. I think it’s going to be a storm, like it was before and always.

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Categories: My Poems in 2010 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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