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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1430594
Since an elderly lady died within, the neighboring house stays empty.
Blazing apple red cardinals
flit and chirp in the azalea bushes
and vines choking your side.
A terracotta mock Grecian urn
lays on the back deck.
It was knocked over
and broken by a hurried
ambulance attendant.
The cheerful welcome sign
that used to greet guests,
under the wrought iron balcony,
now hangs lonely and askew.
Roof tiles are slowly losing
a battle with wind and rain.
Now they flap and slap
with every freshet and breeze.
Squirrels run and scamper about
where they would have been chased away.
They are free to play in the forsaken territory,
that had once been a home.
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