Beachhouse

Chance upon a house. It isn’t clear. 

surrounded by sand, was it always here?

House faded by seasons

Certainly has its reasons to look run down. 

What winds have caused these window pains?

What force has pried these doors from their frames? 

Was it once colored shiny bright?

Or did it fade in harsh summer light?

Now boarded up 

And hunkered down. 

In what condition are you found?

Neat and polished? All run down?

Soon it's coming, there’s the sound. 

No shoes for running, what lies under ground?

Roots! Don't fail me now!

If I had my boots I would leave this town. 

Rather than weathering this storm. 

And waiting to be destroyed. 

Where was the call to evacuate?

Chance to escape and go somewhere safe?

Where were the wheels to take me away?

Again looking down, what’s underground?

Please old roots, don't fail me now!

If I had some boots I would leave this town.

So please share with me your secret now

Were you built to stand or built to fall?

Should I step down from this pedestal

Should I humble a look under gown

Though the rock’s not shiny now

It’s held this long it should not shift along

Weathering this storm

Winds blowing violent

Sudden their onslaught

Sudden their quiet

Ever preparing 

Still unprepared

Ever careful

Still care is scared 

Should these walls not withstand the blast

Then you know this was not made to last. 

Should there be stones upon which I stand

May they keep my children from restless sand. 

Lydiangeline

June 7, 2020