Stands silent and still
Its front door is locked
But its backdoors wide open.
No one lives there
Only I seem to care
August trees stand watch over the house
Vines cling and embrace its pillars
The hum of crickets fill the humid air
A little gecko looks warily and waits.
Old cupboards sit with dusty dresses
And shelves with musty books
The kitchen sink is filled with black china
Blacken by age