the crimson red siding stands

a vibrant contrast

to the lively and cared-for greenery.

the walls inside reverberate with Poppy’s snug laughter

and the consistent melodies of Gram’s hums. 

the birds gather outside the sunroom, 

rejoicing over the feed scooped by an eager hand, 

guided by one with practiced wrinkles. 

the old pine bends from years and years

and years

of youthful stampedes and clumsy dancing.

scents of blueberry muffins and gingerbread 

stream through the window,

a breath of love and comfort

for the weeping willow that watches over.  

only now,

the crimson is withered and dull. 

the greenery is gray-ery

the laughter and melodies and aromas have ceased-

along with those who graced them,

the birds have starved and the sun has forever set. 

the old pine no longer dances with those who once amused it.

and the weeping willow

no longer weeps

nor keeps, 

only eternally sleeps.

everything is withered and dull.

if only the practiced and wise hands could restore

only they are no more.

if only i had two seconds more.

oh how i wish for two seconds more