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