Monday, February 23, 2015

02-23-15 Old Country Farmhouse

Slowly turning
Under the hot sun
Every single day
In the afternoon
To cultivate food

Ten generations
Grew up in this house
Walls thick with paint
Stained with layers
Of golden memories

A bank owns it now
The broken roof leaks
The wood floors creak
It will be bulldozed anyway
To make room for condominiums





   

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