I saw a house almost completely covered in vines a few months back. It got my attention.


Empty Houses

Tenacious kudzu vines
constrict the walls
of the house on Lake Forgotten--
the paint on the walls, scalloped
like the scales on some white dragon,
strangled now by green ropes
struggling to cling and crawl,
once a home, now a trellis.

We wondering-people wonder
who lived there; why they left.
why they ceded their home to
a voracious wildness. Were they happy?
Were they wicked, wronged, wilted;
were they indifferent?

Not knowing things is a way
of knowing. Houses and their contents
have histories; walls always enclose something.





Poetry by William Hughes The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2025-07-16 at 01:24

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!
2025-07-21


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
I particularly liked your line 'once a home, now a trellis" and the ending was very profound. It made me think that they were also 'home" to someone - maybe several different families - and somewhere within are likely strands of DNA that could be used to 'decorate' that history. Blessings, Allen
2025-07-16