from the silent rooms only
dust and a generation
of stale cigarette smoke
cobwebs in corners
a cold woodstove
yellow residue on walls
stained curtains
in the bathroom
a glass holding dentures
a broken coffee cup in the kitchen sink
the grass now too high
the gardens overgrown
the trees along the driveway
recovering nicely in the melt water
without the winter influx
of road salt
a house built
land sculpted and tended
the realization of a dream
ashes in their mouths
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