Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OLD HOUSE, by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS



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OLD HOUSE, by            
First Line: It listens, huddled in a clump of trees
Last Line: That prowl the rooms and silence-drifted stairs. . . .
Subject(s): Houses, Deserted


It listens, huddled in a clump of trees,
For feet that seek its path no more at all;
Only the winds go in and out, and bees
That have their storehouse in a ruined wall.
Only a vine comes creeping back in spring
To coax it into fragrant memory, --
Sensing how lost and desolate a thing
A house abandoned in old age can be.

More dingy and more shrunken in the sight
Of greening hills and orchards lit with bloom,
The house peers out between its trees till night
Has blinded it, and in the thickened gloom,
An old vine breathes remembrance on the airs
That prowl the rooms and silence-drifted stairs. . . .





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