House. For Sale

House. For Sale by Leonard Clark

The doors are locked,
the gray blinds drawn,
new weeds sprung up
in path and lawn.
For “She is dead,”
I heard them say,
the friend I saw
there every day.
she used to wave
from where she sat
in the front room
nursing a cat.
And always smiled
as I passed by
her little house,
and always I
waved back at her,
and then went on
my way to school;
and now she’s gone.
And where’s her cat?
Does he now roam
all by himself
without a home?
The boards are up,
and I feel glum
because I know
strangers will come.
No more I’ll see
my old friend’s face,
nor go again
near that sad place.

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House. For Sale

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