Backroads

A mosaic of grime blurs the view
through the only window left whole
on this homestead, abandoned to vermin
and weeds grown leggy through the floor.
The fields beyond cast an Impressionist’s haze —
matte pastels of wheat, barley, sky. In the bedroom,
I find a rag doll missing an arm. I cradle her,
feel the ache of mule-pulled plows,
drought-bleached days.

– Sarah Russell
First published in Red Eft Revie

PS  Be sure to read the best poem ever about an abandoned farmhouse by Ted Kooser.  Here’s the link.

29 thoughts on “Backroads”

  3. Old dolls and children’s toys in general are about the most atmospheric additions to an abandoned room. I like the mule-pulled ploughs too.
    In the attic in our house there’s an ancient pram, like the one in Rosemary’s Baby. Gives me the creeps but the youngest wants to keep it…

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  4. Then entire post is stunning — the illustration you’ve selected and the words you’ve writ. The words can easily stand alone.
    a grimy mosaic……….perfect for this place and this one window’s view
    I love every phrase and I think these words the most:
    “The fields beyond cast an Impressionist’s haze —
    matte pastels of wheat, barley, sky. ”
    The ending beautifully suits the illustration and the mood you’ve created.
    Thank you so much for posting this to the prompt.

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  6. Not just the doll, but the missing arm. A tiny detail that takes it from an empty, abandoned homestead, to a place filled with the mists of lives lived out within. That’s what takes this over the top.

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  7. Oh Sarah!, your poem is stunning! From the ‘mosaic of grime’ and the ‘weeds grown leggy through the floor’. I especially love:.
    ‘…the ache of mule-pulled plows,
    drought-bleached days’.

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