Only Memories Remain
Copyright, Freeda Baker Nichols
Two windows, two front doors at this old frame
house where once a family lived long ago.
I listen; it seems I hear children’s names
called by their mother dressed in calico.
Today, the pear tree’s blooms are softest white
and ripple when the springtime breezes blow.
The old house comes alive again at night
in dreams of olden days that hastened by.
The time went quickly like swift birds in flight.
An old crow sits there now on limb up high
in yard where trees still stand so proud and tall.
I brush aside a tear, I will not cry.
Instead, I’ll help my memory recall
the sound of Mama’s voice when she would call.
Copyright 2013, Freeda Baker Nichols
Freeda Baker Nichols 
[…] Only Memories Remain – Terza Rima Day 11 NaPoWriMo (freedanichols.wordpress.com) […]
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I really does invoke a sadness to see the bones of a beautiful house gone to ruins. Even if not personal, I always wonder what someone must have gone through to abandon it…
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Good morning, Inger! The old unpainted frame houses and barns are disappearing fast along our countryside, so I need to snap the pictures now, or they will be left to memory, for sure. The recent tornado took some down recently, to be no more.
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[…] Only Memories Remain – Terza Rima Day 11 NaPoWriMo (freedanichols.wordpress.com) […]
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Thank you.
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Moving poem. There’s something so sad about abandoned home places that your poem captures. I’m glad to know it isn’t really your house! The neighborhood where I grew up has changed so much that I’ve decided not to go by any more. Our house is still in pretty good shape, but some of the others are terrible.
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There’s no house anymore at my homeplace–only a storm cellar and two wells, the tree that held the swing . . . and memories.
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Thank you, Shoma! Have a good day!
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Thank you.
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This is so poignant, Freeda. In 1999 tornados took the houses where my parents had lived in Beebe and where my children grew up in Oklahoma. It was a strange feeling. There’s a good nostalgia in being able to look at the house and recall good times.
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I must confess! The house in the picture was not my parents’ house. I snapped the picture Sunday on the way back from the rodeo in Cave City. It’s an abandoned house sitting in a cow pasture. My parents’ house did not have two front doors. Old structures always interest me.
I can’t imagine the feeling of both the houses you mention being taken by tornadoes. I recall that bad storm in Beebe. Horrific!
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lovely…the house looks like my Grandma’s …two front doors and two windows…porch all along front…Tornado took it…
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Thanks. Speaking of tornadoes. One hit ground north of our town last night. A church and 8 houses were damaged. Four people injured.
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This is the time of year for them…Changing seasons!…
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Sure is!
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Another good one that will bring memories back to many who read this one, i think.
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Thanks.
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I love this, Freeda. How emotional at the end when you reveal whose house it was.
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Thank you.
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