Welcome Trespassers Poem by Mark Heathcote

A house with a gnarled face squints
at the snowy, barren land
it gazes at someone's footprints passing.
It asks why he walks so slowly
I have no wish for him to stay or go
but he lingers like some lame animal dragging its feet
it's as though he were a beast of burden
leaving its ancient lair
the house is an empty relic now
it has memories like puffs of grey billowing smoke
it secretly welcomes trespassers
it shivers to see him go…
Overgrown - wiry brambles-lasso his ankles.
With a shake of his left boot, he trips
he nearly falls
two sash windows glint happily once more
then a forlorn raven is heard to caw
don't come back here anymore.