Overhead, a swinging lamp
casts shadows amidst the damp
of a derelict house that still stands
against time’s winds and sands:
A testament to an ingenious man
and the workings of his rough-hewn hands.
On quiet nights, it still lights the way
to fallow field and vine-choked hay.
Tasking their master to return and reap,
wind-blown stalks bend and weep.