Charlie, Me, and the Old House

Charlie and Me

We searched an old house for treasures

finding none

we were young

time elapsed and the old house was going

where old houses go

to the earth I guess.

We wondered to ourselves in silence

the shell remaining

bore courageous scars

on its fading veneer

ripping pry bar scars

sledge hammers held by bronze soldiers

working in blank anticipation.

We wondered too about ghosts,

ghosts of little children

trampling mud on a kitchen floor

leaving tracks for a wrecker’s chain

We were two young boys

standing sadly in awe

watching as voyeurs do

the death of someone’s memory.