no one's home

the parentless,
empty house on
the corner
with the blue
shutters loose
and dangling
in the wind,
is still there.
and out back is
the raw dirt
where the dog
ran all day long,
barking, and the
the front door
swings open, never
quite locked,
letting out
the darkness
within. and a
window is
broken on the
second floor where
a small boy
could peer
out. and the grass
never green,
is thick and
high in the front
yard, where the
mower stopped
and still stands,
and a rusted
swing set
sways gently on
the side,
in the autumn
wind next to a
plastic doll
with unshut
blue eyes and one
pink arm.
there was almost
something like
love there once,
i remember it's
absence like it
was yesterday.