Friday, April 6, 2012

Windows of the Soul

She watches mist settle,
Engulfing the cottage in a mystic softness
Her glow the only presence in an empty room.

Walking deserted spaces, they once called home
Waiting patiently for his return
From a war in which he was called to serve.

Abandoned, she walks the hallways
Haunting residences who dare to intrude
In the house, she claims as forever hers.

The cottage lays empty except for the bride
The sounds of laments as she stares out divided panes
Gazing down the road where he once rode away.

Another woman walks, assessing the quaint cottage
She rubs her arms as cold permeates
The current mistress bars her way.

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