Gone to the Bone

    Sits on a corner,
A city, a street,
A high wooden fence
The grounds:
    A compound
In semblance
    In air.
    No one seems home.
But people
    Do live there,
I swear!
It’s quiet,
And gone in the bone:
Three quarters
    A score
Of years,
    Maybe more,
I passed
    By the home,
Where I walk
    As I roam
(Two dogs in tow
    I pass as I go)
And the home
    Stands alone.
Seems no one
    Is home.
A couple,
    Three kids
Have all grown
Leaves Nine-Seven-Eight
    A White Elephant,
    On the corner,
Or room.
©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn
6 November 2013
Poem’s Score: 6.7

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.