The house stands empty,

fallen into disrepair.

The scent of roses,

 planted by an unknown hand,

lingers in late summer’s air.

~~

                        ~~

Wrapped in clouds, the moon,

cradled in oak’s outstretched arms,

rests. Then, rallied by

crickets’ chatter, it slowly

rises up and moves beyond.

                                                                                                       JDG