Random Acts of Poetry

Abandoned House

It’s nights like this that I miss them,
when the shingles shiver in the wind
and there are no hands to light a fire.
No proud puffs from my chimney spout.

The garden is pure mayhem,
trees and hedges grow unthinned.
I have nothing that realtors desire,
No “For Sale” sign, just “Keep Out”.

Just between you and me
Kids take a lot out of you
Running up the stairs
Sliding down the bannister
It’s nothing but noise and baseballs and broken windows
But when they’ve grown and gone
When no one calls you “home”
When the old folks have died or moved on
That’s when you’re truly alone.


I suppose one day they’ll condemn,
replace me with a row of tidy and trim
tiny tract houses for young buyers.
I will be forgotten, no doubt.



Line count- 21 lines
Writen for Promptmaster!
Poem 1)Prize Prompt: The thing an abandoned house would most like to talk about.