Ramshackle
The house on the headland,
once snug,
is now ransacked by wind,
pelted by rain,
invaded by small seeds
seeking to catch hold
in a new place.
Needle grasses burst
through floorboards.
White petals cling,
fresh découpage,
to fading blue wallpaper.
Saplings pierce the shingles.
And all summer, bees patrol.
Leslie Schultz
Isn’t it interesting that bees have houses, too? I am glad the photos worked for you–I could not locate the ones I intended to use, so I am very happy to hear that this lot carried the day!
Loved this poem and the photos only added to the “experience” of that great word – Ramshackle!