Houses

2 Nov

Wooden walls of silver sage
Tall windows with red frames.
It stood near the Connecticut road
Flanked by bright October woods.

Rustic with its grey-washed sides
The sunny side with climbing vines.
In open acres wide and far
With heavy hinges on the door.

Red brick, weathered from sun and storm,
Stately black shutters and wide white door.
There among the rolling hills,
Motionless, calm, quiet, and still.

Tags: antique, Connecticut, driving, home, house, old house, poem, poetry

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