Waiting for the end,
The house squats morosely on
Its unkempt lot.
Vacant now, but still filled with
The possessions of a lifetime.
The children raised here
Too busy to even empty the shell.
Nothing of their growing years
Treasured enough to take.
Windows like sad drooping eyes with
Lace curtains hanging crookedly
Inside the grimy panes.
Sun catchers lovingly placed to
Maximize the morning sun collect and
Spread multicolored rainbows
Over the forlorn walls.
The house trembles from the frigidness
Of its abandonment.
I give an involuntary shudder
Go home and clean out more closets.
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Wow! Maralee, I think this is my favorite of all yours that I've read. Powerful and evocative.
One line, "The inhabitants are gone now," seems to me the only unecessary line. You've already called it a "vacant house", and I'm not sure this repetion adds anything. See what you think of the poem without it.
The end, by the way, "Go home and clean out more closets" is a fantastic thought to end this poem on. Really gives the poem a punch, makes it personal. Huzzah!