This home is so sad.
It stays as it was left,
Shaped in those last days
When I was compelled to go.
Bereft of anyone to please,
The place is full
Look not to the past
Except to think of how it aught to have been;
Not the emptiness of love
Nor the fear of respite.
Think to the calmer times
When trees were sawed down
For a summer fire, to roast marshmallows.
Or the stunning blue of the off kilter
Inflatable swimming pool.
Or the day out by the chicken coop.
Think of anything but the truth.
This home was dead long before us,
It's cold scratch left scars too deep to hide.
Like creaking floorboards,
And leaking rafters.
We must tend to the waste and repair it!
Or burn it down and go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem