Gradually as evening approached
I noticed that the path became
Smaller and smaller
Until we reached a clearing
There was a lane
Leading to a deserted home
We ran up the lane and climbed
The steps leading to the veranda
I sat in old rocker waiting until
I stopped panting
Finally we walked to the door
I held my breath
And knocked on the door
Nothing...
Not a sound save for
The echo of my knuckles
Knocking on the rotten door
At one time it's door ****
Would have been golden brass
Now, it is rusted
Evermore

*~Marian~