A sad story with a somewhat happy ending . . . .

Country Leavings on Dixon Road

Through town

across bridges

passing

            forest, glade, and field

            cattle, goats, dogs

            and unseen woodland eyes

 

Finally,

            up steep gravel grades

            around tight curves,

            with dangerous drops on one side

            and

then the other,

When an aggressive car zooms by

followed by a country driver’s one finger wave of apology

Catastrophe

 is averted only by a  wheel’s width.

Then I come upon it: 

Suburbia!

 

Actually,

            the house is a city refugee,

            or perhaps is awaiting

 Ray Bradbury’s soft rains.

 

It stands alone

 in a clearing:

            its driveway clean

            curtains and shears in the windows

            manicured lawn and shrubbery

inviting one to linger

and take in

Perfection.

 

From the back deck

            one has a view of the route up

the hill:

            fog shimmering at tree tops

            sunlight glinting off stray

                        streams and metal rooftops.

Heaven!

This was one family’s home:

3 BR 2BA--  “Must see country charmer”

Parents realized hopes for their children:

Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher                              

childhoods possible

Alas,

            Mr. Peabody’s bank

            foreclosed all that might have been,

            leaving only the pretty shell.

Of course,

            one day

            it will decay

Like

            forest leaves

            or

            cow pies.

 

 

Note: Before Thanksgiving 2013 a family moved into the house described above; they bought the house on a short sale, so more or less the home had been "foreclosed" (though not technically) and the previous family had had to move. So I guess the ending is bittersweet.