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The Old Farm

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You know those old farm houses?
The ones out on Meadowbrook Road
Behind the briar bushes and mulberry trees?
There’s a couple buildings that have tumbled to the ground,
But I’ve found some that still stand there, in the waving grass. 
They’ve lasted for who-knows-how long
And the wood planks are rotting but something
About the cracked concrete and shattered windows 
Makes it beautiful, in a woodsy, haunting sort of way. 
When it’s morning, or the middle of the day
The sun shines on the little lake there
And slants in through the holes in the sheet metal ceilings.
I like to stand in the middle of the dusty floors 
And look at the paintings on the walls. 
There’s one with a mermaid, and another 
That says ‘find true love.’ I didn’t find it there, 
In the summer park with the rusting cars,
The soaring, skylight silos, the eroded creek. 
I didn’t find it in the ancient trees
Or the tiny hidden graveyard 
With the weathered marble stones carved with maple leaves,
But I did find something close to home there,
Beneath the pines and the strange circle of stones. 
I felt the ghosts of a long ago time in those fields 
And they weren’t lost or sad, they were just peaceful. 

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constantly confused

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On 3/13/2018 at 9:07 PM, Apollo's Lover said:

I have a Meadowbrook near me too, but it's in the suburbs.

i also have a meadowbrook close to where i live! 

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