No plaque explains this home
the stone shell survives,
roof and doors long since
claimed by fire or indifference
A plank into the opening
mocks the Keep Out sign.
Sand grits underfoot
no artifact remains
No plate, bowl, scrap of cloth
recalls the family sheltered here
seekers of a better life
until the veins of silver waned
Only the wallpaper informs,
peeling rows of faded bluebells
and little girls in sunbonnets
tending dingy sheep
Strips of paper curl but still adhere
A thoughtless tug
and a century collapses
into a guilty souvenir
CAT Phillips has been writing poetry all her life. She is a retired teacher of English and has enjoyed publication in journals, both local and national. She twice won a contest for ekphrastic poems describing sculptures at Grounds for Sculpture in NJ. She convenes a group of poetry lovers at a local senior center.
Featured image by Fogarty Avenue “Wallpaper” BY CC 2.0
