There is a house.
A barn
amongst the grand
majestic trunks
It is withered
with its white paint peeling
like the thin bark of a birch.
Its left side is sunken in
tilting it unevenly on it's foundation
It is abandoned
lonely.

The autumn air tastes crisp
and bites with cold, raw teeth
on the tip of my nose
The earth is fresh
and frozen beneath my feet.
My body aches with age
and my heart with loss
reminding me of the person she was
as my feet take me towards the barn's window
where a thin blanket
of dew has formed
fogging up the worn glass

Looking back at me
is the blur of an unfamiliar man
yet his features appear clear.
The skin on his body is loose
and thin
Wispy white hair looks out of place
on his pale scalp.
His face is withered
and wrinkled
indicating where a smile once lived.

His eyes are sad
and lost.
Lost in the midst of himself
and he is missing something
a part of himself.
He is faded,
soulless.

Peering in through
the window
Wiping away the layer
of mist
to get a better look
I see only a room,
deserted.