Callan Park

Image (c) donandcarol 2007 CC by 2.0

Time runs down in slow motion

Where a couple once

Stashed their lives,

Each hand moving apart,

The walls hold shadows

Arched and frozen

Jagged edges brush along

Rotting wood

Glass breaks wearily,

Clinks as it falls,

Wind whistles through

The holes they leave:

Space for the netting

Of their final tenants.