At Season’s End – old house

AT SEASON’S END

 

They stood there, just the two of them.

A tear fell from her eye.

Life makes unfortunate changes,

And this time ’twas good-bye.

 

“To you, Old House,” he tipped his hat,

“You sheltered me and mine.

You weren’t much to gaze upon,

But served our needs just fine.”

 

She leaned her head against his arm,

He stroked her wrinkled cheek.

Tears were making it rather hard

For them to even speak.

 

She closed her eyes, then memory

Returned her to the past,

When as a bride she entered here —

Seems time flew by so fast.

 

“Old House, if you could only speak,”

She said, with heavy heart,

“We’d reminisce about the years,

From now, back to the start.

 

Your walls were arms around us.

They kept us warm and dry

And shared our joys and heartaches

As years went rushing by.

 

Is that a tear I see, Old House,

Trickling down your pane?

A skeptic would dismiss it

As just a bit of rain.

 

But I know you weep, Old House,

Your days are numbered, too,

And time is short for each of us,

It pains me, but it’s true.

 

You know your life is over.

Ours nears that time, too,

But, oh, weren’t they wonderful,

Those years we shared with you?”

 

 Then turning to the man, she said,

“I’m sure the Old House speaks.

It said it’s glad we lived here.”  

He replied, “It only creaks.”

 

“But if it had a voice,” she said,

“It would beg us, not to leave.

It would shelter us ’til death comes,

Then we would not grieve.”

 

“My Dear,” he said, “It’s time to go.

Let’s do it without fuss.

We raised a fine family here,

Now they’ll take care of us

 

I know it’s hard to leave our home,

And it doesn’t matter when,

But wouldn’t it have been far worse,

Had house and years not been?”

 

He took her hand — they turned away —

They smiled through their tears.

“To you, Old House,” he said once more,

“Thanks for all those years.”

 

7/21/90 –   Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

1’st … Ark.N.P.D. 1994

2’nd … N.F.S.P.S. 1994

2’nd … Ind.N.P.D. 1995