I've always had a strange fascination with old, abandoned buildings and especially old warehouses. It seems like every town and city has at least a few of these. As I was riding the train back from New York City to Charleston I saw a lot of empty warehouses and factories. Near Baltimore I saw what looked like an entire abandoned mill village with the large factories surrounded by rows of adorable, brightly colored row houses where those who used to work at these mills lived. I was struck with a twinge of sadness at seeing these and it inspired the following poem. This is my first and perhaps my last attempt at a free verse poem as I think my skills lie more with an old-fashioned, rythmic style of poetry but here it is:
Riding by Factories on a Sun-Filled Morning
Time, such an inexplicable thing
Towns across the country filled with warehouses
Empty, broken emblems of a time gone by,
Faded into an all too visible obscurity.
Shattered windows and graffiti-stained walls,
The only visible signs of man's continued presence,
Interest in their once bustling existence.
Silent, they beckon us with this question,
If bricks could speak what stories might they tell?
Perhaps they could shed light on this subject
Which centuries of bearded men could not,
The essence of time, known only to God.
