Homestead

Homestead



Cracked picture frames tilt carelessly

On walls stained by the passage of time

Disused memories clattering

Like pennies left in dusted corners

Doors ajar waiting for anyone

To close them, I capture the truth

Of what never actually was



Windows await those who

Cannot refuse to pass their openness

To gaze out at forgotten dreams

And broken homesteads

Prairies grass returned to cover

The past with a tumbled thistle

Pricking my moments with remorse



Open suitcases lay scattered

In dry dusted attics

Emptied of the collected past

Sick children and failed harvests

Hungry moments wanting something more

Than staring out dirty windows

Into endless skies

Horizons of my constant despair



Scattered by His breath

Dried remnants of fertility

Rest guarding the monuments

Of family, of our hope

And the failure to

Live in a world without

Dreams.