Run-down

In a half way house
you stop, over by the gravel, beneath the long shudder
where the big old trees bow down, the bare, untamed grounds,
this halfway house, where the awning hang low,
as though a drunk on a lounge,
the tinted, tainted glass, thick and dusty with grime
where a pale painted butterfly is found,
this half way house, run down,
with walls thoroughly broken, and stairs agap
like a child’s milk teeth,
smiles unknowingly, unseeing,
this half way house, on an abandoned clearing
next to an abandoned brewery,
old remnants of life found,
of life bound.
This half way house, once with memories
of a new surround.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Run-down

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s