How can the old house still stand
when everyone has gone?
Doesn't it know?
Hasn't it heard?
Can't someone please explain
that the past is no longer prologue.
Its here and now...again.

No more laughter in the stairwell.
No cars honking in the lane.
The furnace rusts
in the basemant.
The kids have long moved away.
So there's no one else to remember
the tears...the joys...the days.

Just an old house in the field
with broken windows.
Who could know?
Who can say?
I forget.