Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DESERTED HOUSE, by PHOEBE SMITH



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DESERTED HOUSE, by            
First Line: Old, neglected cedar trees press close
Last Line: Where only memory lingers, only echo calls.
Subject(s): Houses, Deserted; Memory


Old, neglected cedar trees press close
To hide these ruined walls
From curious passers-by.

This once was the abode of life,
Birth entered here, death passed swiftly;
Youth dwelt here with laughter, long ago,
And age, departing, left a benediction.
No rain can wash the footprints from this sill,
Nor decay blot out the mark
Of hands that pressed against this door;
No wind can chill the flame this hearth-stone knew.
Now cedars press their murmuring branches close,
Where only memory lingers, only echo calls.





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