An old house remains on our land. It has two rooms and no plumbing. The remnants of an outhouse sit behind, as does a freshwater creek. We imagine the former residents were farm workers, collapsing onto straw-filled mattresses after a hard day in the fields. Though the only inhabitants truly known are the turkey vultures and raccoons we have chased from the rafters. The thought of destroying this miniscule piece of history saddens me, but the cost and practicality of restoration is daunting. For now it sits awaiting its fate.
So many seasons
Walls have stood the test of time
The stories untold
Haibun Monday: Let’s Travel Through Time hosted by Merrill












