At the edge of the village line she stood
An abandoned house dressed in tattered wood
The gabled porch, fringed in oak carved lace
A time worn bonnet slung low across her face
Her windows, moody eyes webbed in grey
Unnerved me as they seemed to trace my way
A weather worn swing clung to one chain
Beside it a three pronged walking cane
Perhaps left there by chance one day
Or had its owner quietly slipped away
Do creaky floors speak sotto voce of treasured lore
Did a happy family once live behind her door
I stood just outside the rusty iron gate
wondering how she had come to this dismal state
How I wish she could speak of days gone by
But sunlight faded, slipping low in the sky
I had to move on; turning to say my goodbyes
I\'m sure there was a tear in her sad grey eyes