the waiting

The Waiting


On the south-side of the, abandoned, house
leans an overgrown and untrimmed orange
tree; fruit fall to ground and feeds no one.
the elderly house has many wretched rooms,
that give shelter to no one; on floors where
sunrays, through old shutters, limply dance
with miserable dust. Profound is the silence,
except on windy days when the old house
groans, as in distress, when the orange tree
slams against its flank: They both wait for
someone to come along and give them zest
for life again, like last year when a family
came and children shook the tree, but no,
the adult thought it was too far from town.