foreclosure by Lee Clark Zumpe

That unoccupied domicile abides,
its once verdant lot much diminished
by ever-widening thoroughfares.

Withered flora settles in a neglected garden,
overzealous weeds constitute a jungle
that conceals the narrow sidewalk.

Within, perhaps hints of former lodgers –
absent so long neighbors cannot name them –
linger in secret recesses:

the spatter of stewing sauces,
the scent of aftershave,
the echoes of children’s laughter.

And in the fusty shadows
of its moribund years,
tears, sweat, and anguish:

the hush of joyless holidays,
the tumult of escalating quarrels,
the desperation of eviction.