Look at you now

with greying wood

the once vibrant paint

stripped of color

by time and chisel rain

 

The garden

now brambles

has returned to seed

as a buffet for the crows

 

I remember you,

old friend—

canary yellow

with a porch of haint blue

trimmed delicately

with lilac wisteria swaying

in the noonday breeze

 

Curtains of dust gather

and stare up at the sky

from behind shut windows

like a white-haired elder

with cloudy eyes

remembering