Neglected and abandoned,

I seem to be shrinking with age.

As the forest creeps in,

Obscuring the sunlight,

And eventually cracks my rooftop,

Giving me a black eye for all to see.

 

But in the impending darkness there is clarity,

Things noticed and apparent,

Which were invisible for years.

 

Are now clear.

 

 

The sad bird lands again in the family garden,

Unexpected, and hungry to leave some baggage there,

For us to consider,

As she stares at us from the garden,

Expressionless, holding no anger,

Rather sitting for us to view the disarray,

Which is our life today.

 

Leaving us to consider active and lost love in both hands,

Once again.

A VIEW OF THE OLD COUNTRY