The House On A Hill

An old red house sways in the wind

It sits on top a hill

Its age clear with every creek of the floor 

And every hole in the roof

No one exits or enters the home

It stays hidden from the world

Vines make it look more green than red

It likes the quiet

Though the vacant house lay at rest

Sat together on the molding couch

The white hands of two lovers intertwine

Their presence remaining 

The dank house remains chilled

But the warmth of two souls linger 

You can feel it in the breeze as you enter

They were happy