old town

what do you do with an old town deserted?

board up its eyes so it won't see what it's become?

board up its mouths so the gossip that blurted

is hushed? In its final years total the sum

as a municipality taxable and try to come

to some reasonable expense report of dreams?

Its windows are like bloodshot eyes to some;

its open doors, gaping mouths too tired to scream.

The court house archives the payments and liens

on homes that are now clouds of dust in the past;

the cemeteries names line up like waves on a stream.

The paint on its walls disappear more with each wind,

drying and decaying like an old man's skin.

Reviews

[Written On The Run]

The imagery is powerful and all too true. I like how you draw allusions between the town and a tired old man.

[Rita L. Sev]

Its windows are like bloodshot eyes to some;
its open doors, gaping mouths too tired to scream...

Excellent imagery and personification, Xavier. Too many old towns have lost their identity... Though in my city, the oldest part (called Old City in Philadelphia) is highly revered...

[AYVID N]

You have painted a ghost town so interestingly. I could see it dusty, derelict, deserted in my mind...

[Sugar Plum ♥]

I liked the personification of the town, as if he is a dying man, very expressive! here in my country we have many old deserted towns like that -- unfortunately -- and their inhabitants too, if any. Such an old town could contain something precious for the generations, and strange smell too...My favorite lines:

Its windows are like bloodshot eyes to some;
its open doors, gaping mouths too tired to scream.

::n.nour::

[Linda alexander]

Its windows are like bloodshot eyes to some;
its open doors, gaping mouths too tired to scream.
Excellent write, felt like I physically visited the dead town, I can feel the sadness migrating to the reader even which means poem is so powerful in transferring message, it is happening worldwide, it extremely sad, but the officials may say nothing personal all business, enjoyed each lines

[m.s.early]

Thank you Linda. It's hard watching my hometown change. I don't think it's for the best either.

[mystic]

beautiful poem...I love to visit old towns, most are much smaller than I remember...but what stories they can tell...

[m.s.early]

Thank you so much for your thought mystic :)

[m.s.early]

There are many paths to the death of an old town. Interstates are built and reroute traffic away from them. The demand for rail dies and consequently the town follows. Wars kill off the next generation. Technology advances the progress of Mankind and reversely the towns demise. Fortitude is an element of the old folks' reputations that use to live here. Not many left are indigenous these days. It's become a retirement community for old Yankees that find our real estate taxes attractive. They don't bring children.

The school systems are declining as a result of low demand for them. That makes us less attractive for retail and manufacturing. We've resulted to raping our resources. Our hardwood is nearly all gone and being replaced by Virginia Loblolly Pines. We have become a "cutover" state. We are more dependent on Tobacco than ever.

When a town dies it leaves many ghosts as opposed to just one a person might leave. I can still hear us kids laughing under the bridge and trestle, peddling our bikes in the streets, vending machines banging out soda. The sounds aren't heard by the newcomers, but they are to the few of us still here.

[Marie Anzalone]

You can feel it, too, can't you, when a town is starting to go? There's that sense of decay even under the order. When you look around and realize that evryone under 20 will self-destruct if they stay. That hollowness that swoops in- I wonder if anyone who did not grow up in an Appalachian or Rust Belt community can truly understand how that decay is so tied to the landscape?

haunting and beautiful.

[m.s.early]

That's an interesting correlation to dying towns, Appalachia, and The Rust Belt. Interstates are built and reroute traffic away from them. The demand for rail dies and consequently the town follows. Wars kill of the next generation. Technology advances the progress of Mankind and reversely the towns demise. Fortitude is an element of the old folks' reputations that use to live here. Not many left are indigenous these days. It's become a retirement community for old Yankees that find our real estate taxes attractive. They don't bring children.

The school systems are declining as a result of low demand for them. That makes us less attractive for retail and manufacturing. We've resulted to raping our resources. Our hardwood is nearly all gone and being replaced by Virginia Loblolly Pines. We have become a "cutover" state. We are more dependent on Tobacco than ever.

There are many paths to the death of an old town. It leaves many ghosts as opposed to just one for a person. I can still hear us kids laughing under the bridge and trestles, peddling our bikes in the streets, vending machines banging out soda. The sounds aren't heard by the newcomers, but they are to few us still here.

[Lyn Anderson]

This is amazing, a perfect description of a dead town.

[m.s.early]

(: thank you KL. Not an apostrophe out of whack ;)

[Emily B]

there is a novel in these few words. have you read Silas House? One of the novels that I read had a line about God being in the trees . . . it has always stuck with me

[m.s.early]

I have never read that, but am always willing to take read suggestions

[Emily B]

a little behind on my reading, i am so often buried in non-fiction research . . . any Appilachian man worth his salt would do well reading Silas House