EMPTY FARMHOUSE

I saw an empty old farmhouse with the yard fence fallen down. I was seized by a sudden sadness as I stood there and looked around.

I saw the barn by the woodslot the low roof now fallen in; The doors had now left their hinges. I noticed the empty bin.

A moss covered well curb had fallen, the well bucket lay covered by weeds. 'Twas the well that had furnished cool water For all the family's needs.

The poultry house lay there in shambles, it told its own story too well. The rusted feeders still lay there, The roost poles had broken and fell.

A maple tree stood near a window. A low limb long and straight still bore the scars of the last rope swing that had held the Children's weight.

The remains of a little square building lay there by a big fallen log. I wondered had this been the kennel that had sheltered the family dog?

I walked around to the garden and up by the house again. She was standing unpainted and lonely offering her shelter to man.

I looked through the darkened windows, and wondered which room could be, the one that had been the parlor and had housed the Christmas tree.

I felt this old house was lonesome; That maybe she'd smile once more, If only the family could be here, If the Children could play round her door.

She'd outlived the others about her. Her will to stay stronger than some. She was waiting like an aged mother-- Yes--waiting for someone to come.

John L. Gwaltney