a lifetime and now
the sun sinks to
undo it.
Anne Sexton
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| Source |
The house is empty
falling to ruin quietly
shutters parting from their hinges
paint unpeeling and tiny jaws
chewing the basement wood.
A silent cat seeks shelter
from the cold wind
and curls in a dank corner.
This is the decay
of a lifetime founded
on the substance of dreams.
Threadbare as the bedsheets
pegged out on the washline,
I wonder if the night will bring rain.
Day 28 ~ SUBSTANCE
Margaret is our host in The Imaginary Garden today, inviting us to reimagine photographic images.
You’ve brought life to this empty house, Kerry. If it wasn’t for the ‘tiny jaws chewing the basement wood’ and the silent cat, it would be completely alone. I love the washing metaphor and the way it leads to the final thought, which could be the house, the cat or the speaker doing the thinking.
ReplyDeleteI wanted to put one human thought into the deserted place. Thanks, Kim.
DeleteThis is incredibly potent, Kerry! I love the quote by Anne Sexton and held my breath at "This is the decay of a lifetime founded on the substance of dreams," .. I wonder if we can take anything for granted in life? Maybe not.. ❤️
ReplyDeleteYes, that quote was indeed an inspiring starting point for this poem, and paired up with the picture very well.
DeleteA house is the substance of dreams, mortared and shingled with whatever we cobble against the wind -- clearing out my mother's house recently is testament to this, so much useless stuff fills in the grotto we call self, this I and me with mine. And when we're gone -- when we die or more centrally when the heart of a house fades, how quickly what is clung to vanishes. Sexton is right, all we do have is a day.
ReplyDeleteJust a day.. and that we call our house is only ours for a time. I have learnt it is not wise to attach oneself to any particular place. Thank you, Brendan.
DeleteSolid work indeed, KO. Rain or no, termites and fallen shutters or no, this house clearly still holds what it needs to hold...at least for now. Well done.
ReplyDeleteWhat a delightful thought! Thank you, Ron.
DeleteYes, it looks empty and falling to ruin despite the washing on the line. But oh, after reading I kept looking for the cat, worried about it seeking shelter in such a bleak place ... finally decided the cat is not visible except in your mind. Greatly relieved!
ReplyDeleteThe cat is a figment of my imagination, but is also the stray cat which lives under my house that I feed every day.
DeleteThis is excellent, Kerry. Old abandoned houses seem so poignant to me. I often wonder about the lives lived there, and why the house ended up empty and decaying. Your poem really engages the senses, with the smell of rot, the cold, the splintering wood. It moved me. And, at the risk of being a broken record, another really excellent quote as well.
ReplyDeleteps--I hate to whine and wheedle, but I was disappointed you missed my "Triolet On Parting" at Word Garden. It's 4 poems back now. it would mean something to me if you could find time to read it, still.
The quotes have really helped me focus for the poem a day, and reading the poets, looking for words that I can relate to has helped me to innovate my own writing, I think.
DeleteI am sorry I missed your triolet. Generally, I have tried to return comments each day, as they have been made on my blog but I have not linked up all my poems to RT, so I have missed out a few.
I went back to check, and somehow I missed on a few return visits for that prompt.. Mad Monday, I guess. Thanks for the heads up.
DeleteThe substance of dreams.... threadbare. GAH
ReplyDeleteThe time comes when a person can't lie to themselves any more, but just live in the reality he/she has achieved..
DeleteBeautifully done...I also wonder about abandoned houses...arae they waiting for their family to return...or just waiting....
ReplyDeleteSometimes they are merely awaiting demolition.
DeleteOh this is a wonderful description of a house... I particularly loves how you wrote about the dreams that was in its foundations.
ReplyDeleteWithout the dreams of mankind, would there ever be anything built at all, I wonder.
DeleteI didn't perceive the house as empty having seen so many similar houses here in the south and the Appalachians. I perceived it as simple poor people living there, eking out a living as best they could. The cat got to me as animals always do. I wonder about the cat...
ReplyDeleteThose "tiny jaws" look so real, eating away everything, as a wild thought thinks of rain...
ReplyDelete"tiny jaws"... they eat away at the dingiest as well as the finest. Nature reclaiming itself. I write about this image and dreams with a bit of a different twist - however - if one doesn't give life over to chance, to "try"... then dreams will wither and die! We all need that rain...
ReplyDeleteA lifetime founded on the substance of dreams. This rather amazes me, Kerry, as the same photo drew me as well and my poem was about dreams at the other end of the spectrum....the beginning. Our Muses took similar paths today.
ReplyDeleteOr perhaps it is the remains of a legacy dream built on simplicity... I love the visuals...This is beautiful. I visit my threadbare dreams at times.
ReplyDeletepalpable ache, here , Kerry ~
ReplyDeleteAn iconic take, full of the heartfelt sorrow for what a home becoming just another zombie property.
ReplyDeleteYou took this sad old house and gave it a life with subtle references of animal and human.
ReplyDelete