Standing Roofless

Standing Roofless


still standing, roofless, 
open to the skies,

time's cold brutality
reduced this home,

and memories
fade into the soil,
with roof remnants.

so many stories
in those walls,

mostly forgotten now,

subsiding into nature's
recycling program.


outside my window,
i see again that the
river is still rising.

i hear a meadowlark,
and scarcely believe
my failing ears. 

it's so easy to think
fondly of nature.


so little of it
intrudes itself
in my window,

my limited view.

in my mind, 
again i see the 
roofless cabin


still standing, roofless, 
open to the skies,

time's cold brutality
reduced this home,

and memories
fade into the soil,
with roof remnants.

7 thoughts on “Standing Roofless

  1. Quite extraordinary, Murray! Hellebores hold a unique place for me, especially associated with January in England.

    I hadn’t heard of Melampus before and now I am exploring his rich legacy in cllassical literature.

    How erudite you are … thank you!

    Like

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