the garden gate’s remark

Back along the ridge
down the half hidden path
murky and lined with the weeds of regret

Someone’s house in the woods
Someone’s past life lost in loneliness

The roof caved in
the front door missing
a broken face
a mouth of the past
the window agape

a tattered tongue of curtain
ripped and ragged
flicking in and out
over broken teeth of glass

the garden gate’s remark
to the passing summer wind

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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