woodville

Gray House
Originally uploaded by william benton

the old, gray, wood house-
with its ghosts singing to the music of
drip drip drip
into pots and pans
on a rainy night.

thunderous crescendos
shook the frail, whisper of a curtain
and with a breeze of summer wind
sent her dancing at the window.

that gray wood
its wrinkled skin
barely held the ceiling overhead
barely kept the wind and rain out.

but it was there;
and we huddled inside....
with the crackling of the wood burning in the iron stove
and the broken windows
barely held together
just as we were.