Lonely House
January 31, 2012
The collected stones of a house
its damp dry-stone walls holding
onto the mountainside, shining
where the sun touches. Green
in the gaps and cracks, slates
scattered, abandoned.
A single room open to the sky
white frost in old corners.
Empty folds, sheep aren’t
called here any more.
Falling stones, a farm
slipping under grass.
A view for strangers.
Second draft. Comments, ideas, all welcome. Let me know what you think.
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Beautiful!
Thanks for commenting, I appreciate the visit.
Jim
The inspiration for this must be a lovely, lovely place.
Your choice of punctuation is very interesting and intriguing. I like it.
I’m playing with line breaks at the moment. But my punctuation is subject to change on rewrites anyway. I’m prone to not punctuating when I write in my notebook, then when I type up I read out loud to see how it sounds. I try to get someone else to read it back to me as well, because what I know about how I want it to sound may be different to other peoples interpretation.
It’s a difficult subject to remain passive about. So I do play around with it alot.
Thanks for the comment.
Jim