To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
Click Here To add this poem to your "Voting Possibilities" list!
The House That Jack Built She scrapes mounds of mud from her shoe, onto the step. Raindrops drip from the roof into a puddle nearby. Her daily walk from the creek solidifies in her mind the image of their incomplete house. The tar board walls haphazardly stand, ruthlessly dubbed by neighbor children as "the house of cards", while eaves troughs are scattered like pick-up sticks abandoned in the rain. She had wished for fresh snow for the holidays, to adorn the barren ground with a sequined white cloak, reflecting the night's lights. With a long drawn out sigh, she fingers two tarnished cowbells in her deep pockets, bought to ring on New Years Eve. She ponders her husband's wish for "no Christmas", birthed from the depression that weighs down his carpenter hands, then walks through the doorway into an open stud room, to find Christmas amidst the saw horse, dirt and nails. |
Sorry, there are no critiques for this poem in our system... If the poem is older, the critiques have been purged!