Signs of Dilapidation by JD DeHart
the old house seemed fine enough
for generations last, but now the walls
have begun to show wear
how did you do it, stuck down there
nestled among the ancient ruins
of by-gone trailing days
even the strongest wood buckling
no water, no heat, all the guilt stones
weighing down under their weary
sallow eyes, keeping secrets like bright
tangerines, by the bushel, pushed aside
their odors too rich, evocative to hide.
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