Faye Sizemore

THE OLD HOUSE

The Old HouseSun baked
Wind rocked
Rain soaked
Frost bitten
It stood for one hundred years
Seeing many families’
Laughter and tears
Now an eyesore
And in the way
This was its burial day
As the bucket bit in
With deadly aim
I thought I could hear
Its memories
Screaming in pain
Now the grounds have been
Smoothed with no muss
Making it appear
Like it never was…