When I first moved here,
I noticed such a grand lady,
she graced a slight rise by the road.

A round turret, mullioned windows
rounded lapping shingles, like scales.

I asked some questions of our new friends- 
some recalled events, even a ballroom,
I imagined window seats and a sweeping bannister.

She had been empty for years, patiently fading
suprisingly intact, hidden a bit in trees and vines.
I always smiled to see her popping up over the rise.

Dove gray tiles of the slate roof, windows winking
Pastel paint faded but the constrasting colors still showed

We saw the property was sold, and
the wrecking machines quickly came.
I was too new and shy to ask to see her
before she came down.

She was razed to the ground in a day,
nothing built to replace her, just cleared land.

I can’t say for sure now on which rise,
which turn of the road, she stood.