Ghost House ( after Robert Frost )

Whoever once stepped afoot      
  upon this now abandoned porch        
must’ve toiled a daily wage        
within the fields and garden gate        
  hanging now as rotted wood          
       
Whoever cooked within this kitchen        
  canning beans and plucking chicken        
surely did so with such care        
her flower vase still sitting there        
  with wilted bloom on withered stem        
       
Whoever slept within this room        
  of hand-sewn curtains billowing-          
snagged and torn on broken glass        
of window panes long past death        
  took care the stitches stay strong        
       
Whoever held with loving arms        
  the children on this little farm        
assuredly swung them from that tree        
where now hangs a broken swing        
  to keep them safe from harm        
       
Whoever built that empty barn        
  for bales of hay and grain of corn        
certainly whittled this little bench        
in a private corner of cement fence        
 overlooking the family plot        
       
Carved in hearts: names and dates        
  of whoever lived or visited this place        
Perhaps descendants paying respect        
or aimless wanderer simply curious        
  of ghosts without story or face        
       
~