There is a sighing in the trees
all gathered round the ruined house;
a leaning in towards the shattered roof
and silent, breathless rooms.
Been gone these thirty years, that old grey man.
Died all alone, behind these windows thick with dust
and cobwebbed quiet.
The old wind knocks and keens.
Invites each passer by to stay a while
and make a little space for pity.
Over the years the wind has gathered in
a multitude of unsuspecting mourners,
marking the old manís passing.
A shot of another place in ruins found this afternoon. This shot was taken through a very dusty window which explains the hazy quality of the image Places like this always get me thinking about who lived there and how the house came to be abandoned.
|Camera:||Canon EOS 300D |
|Recording media:||RAW (digital)|