extreme decrepitude runs its course.
Ten by ten feet of forgotten space. One table and one chair.
Weathered with thoughts and dreams of white,
metallic and collapsable. A table still standing
as a chair lay folded upon the littered ground. Never the study to sit.
A cluster of pastel particle boards. A haphazard collection
of wilted yellows, pale blues, muted oranges, and cloudy, olive green
placed over missing boards and gaping holes
vomited up from reclaimed lumbers. Three exposed windows.
metal framing and an idea where the glass had once called home
all of its fractured pieces long since vanished,
returning to sand or lost to spells salvaged fragments
Reflections of things meant to be. With just enough for the light to get in
Barely enough for my light to peer out.
To stand the stillness of hours, lost in thoughts from another time.