What We Left Behind

A frigid gust blows in the window

And across the dusty floor

Broken glass and scattered trash

No one comes here anymore

Everything left where it was

As if they would return

Food left rotting in the fridge

Or on the stove to burn

This rusted junker of a car

Was someone’s cherished ride

The latest model at one time

Sitting dormant just outside

Retired to the elements

Beneath a cloudy sky

It sleeps on four flat tires

Forever on standby

Down the hill beside the house

A lonely railroad waits

For trains that won’t pass through again

On their way to other states

A mangled doll beside the tracks

Its clothing worn and tattered

Smiling still, recalling perhaps

The child to whom it mattered