The House by the Railway Track

A man sits solitary
In a garden barren,
Even as it shines bright-
Summer is lost in that lonesome patch.
In the nectar years
Many summer’s past,
The garden is all but barren;
A spectacle of life and colors
Teases the traveling breeze.
As must, the wind bring changes,
Life turns to absence, and the colors
They fade.
And here sits now this one man
Of the past,
Lonesome, in the
Breeze of the traveling train.
*The photo of the abandoned house was taken in Klagenfurt, Austria 

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