Fields of Yellow
One of my favourite houses
Burned down to a crisp.
Half of its structure was no longer painted
White- it was covered in soot.
I cried. I cried for a house I never knew as a home.
A house I never knew at all.
A house that was a home to someone. A home
For generations, it looked like- the siding was Chipped from the wear of years.
This was never my home, but
It was a place I gawked at as I drove by.
In the summer time, the fields surrounding
The house were blooming yellow petals
Of beauty and grace, and they captured
My attention for all the quick glances
I could give as I drove by.
I wish I took that Polaroid
I was meaning to take,
But I didn't and now my chance is gone.
The endless stream of yellow flowers
Brushing against the ocean blue ahead,
Is gone, as it is now Fall.
This house is a reminder
That not everything lasts forever.
Little moments that slip by are gone forever.
That is unless you take a picture.
I wish I took a picture.