The old house

The house on Marford peaks
above the hedge, shaggy tiles 
(dulled to grey from years 
in the sun) frown 
under the weight of domestic 
solitude.

Isolation trickled down the chimney 
until the walls began to rot
(like fruit in the sun 
too long) until the squat couple 
can’t bear to peek
through the window.

The mail carrier doesn’t 
even bother anymore.


© 2021 Phillip Knight Scott

#dverse poets pub asks us to imagine being outside looking into a house of our choice. I used this picture as inspiration.

Published by Phillip Knight Scott

My name is Phillip. I live in North Carolina with my wife of 12 years and 5-year-old son. I am a Tar Heel born and bred and watch every Yankees game I can. I'm still searching for my own TARDIS. My first novel, "The Alien in the Backseat," is available now! https://amzn.to/3oVCG77

26 thoughts on “The old house

  1. “Isolation trickled down the chimney until the walls began to rot (like fruit in the sun too long),” .. this is such a strong image! 💝

    Like

  2. I too love the imagery here:

    “Isolation trickled down the chimney
    until the walls began to rot
    (like fruit in the sun
    too long)”

    It’s gorgeous and I feel like this house is nearly abandoned, even if it’s still lived in. I find that haunting and realistic in a way. Beautifully written! You can really feel the wall rot too, such a feeling in a rundown and old house. Makes you wonder what it smells like after so many years; you may as well become accustomed to it after so long.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. When I read “domestic solitude” I know something is amiss. It is confirmed when “isolation trickles down the chimney (a metaphorical source of warmth) until … rot.” Such an oppressive atmospheric piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. The house peaks above the hedges. Establishes its presence. But yet inside, there’s rot.
    And the thing that trickles down the chimney is very sad.
    Whatever got it in that state?!
    I feel the occupants need to wake up. Perhaps if we sent a ghost into the house some ‘living’ and ‘fixing’ would find inspiration there?
    Abandoned houses make me sad. But negligence, (like the kind this one is experiencing) makes me sadder.
    Thanks for sharing your lovely poem today, Phillip.

    Like

  5. You’ve managed to write a very sad and at the same time beautifully felt poem. The isolation trickling down gave me the shivers, made me want to care for the lonely couple within. And the mail man ignoring it makes it even sadder.

    Liked by 1 person

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