the best she could

from the window
you see
the rusted bike. the swing
with a broken chain
on one side.
the collapse of a blue
plastic
pool, once two feet high,
now slick with algae.
the yard
is worn by dogs.
the clothes line stretched
with wet
dungarees and shirts,
girls dresses. baby clothes
of blue and pink,
carnations stiff in
the cold wind.
a pair of chuck
taylors with the laces
tied, hung like weights
over the vine,
never to dry.
the long chain
link fence has a hole in
it where
we took wire clippers
to escape,
then come back. she did
the best she could.