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Natalka Bilotserkivets
THE ABANDONED HOUSE
Like a Wyeth canvas –
Both doors leading from a room.
One closed, and you wouldn’t guess
There’s a world behind them, deserted long ago.
A lantern illuminates the scent of old tallow
And sweat from furs; mold gleams
On the walls of the cupboard from everywhere...
A rusty bucket, a mop, a basket, a jar.
Who opened the other door? Where
Did he, abandoning his home, go?
... The slight footprints of aged feet
Overgrown with grass... They flew off
Into the powder blue wilds, into March smoke.
And the house choked on the bluish light.
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