
Sun slinks low to the horizon
giving leave for darker shades
of dusk to arrive.
Trees rustle their conversations
with all manner of inhabitants
muted, to suit the dying of light.
The steps take us up into
another world.
One where,
we may not wish to go in
the dead of night
but, the street lamp
offers a quiet glow of courage.
Light plays across cold-stone walls
of the old house
somehow
softening their intimidating depth.
If walls could talk
what would they say about those
hearts they’ve known?
For all its rooms the house
is empty
save a woman, who waits.
Maybe she has always been
isolated in that one room
looking at its four walls but peeking
at the world outside every now and then
just as we all tend to live in our separate boxes
leading our own separate lives.
~*~
© Daydreamertoo *all rights reserved
*I wanted this to be a bit on the dark side because the painting seems somewhat dark and lonely too.
Shared with Magpie Tales #119 Edward Hopper House at Dusk Painting.
it seems so beautiful despite and because of the darkness. as you claim.
🙂
Separate boxes, indeed. Well done!
Nice! Nice! Nice! I would indeed love to hear what walls would reveal!
This catches the atmosphere of a Hopper admirably.
Thoughtful and powerful. A wonderful read.!
Love the sound and imagery in this:
“Trees rustle their conversations
with all manner of inhabitants
muted, to suit the dying of light.”
If the walls could talk, what would they say about the hearts that live there. I think that says a lot, it would know the heart and not the surface. Good work
The last lines are so true…
discontent
wow, Beauty you captured the quality of Hopper’s art work,
isolation and waiting. a fine poem.
whew. you really set the atmosphere in this one…kinda scary that big old house with one woman…and def brings a lot of questions to mind….the lives in boxes at the end is a great touch bringing it back to our own realities…
The lines in the artwork took you to all the dark corners of Hopper’s painting Bren, and you discovered connections in every one! I enjoyed your focus on secrecy and intimidation. Your poem is wonderful. Thank you for sharing!! =D
I feel the isolation in the picture, too, and enjoyed your exploration of it. And yes there are millions of separate lives….
This is great! I read it through then read it again – concentrating on each stanza as a separate poem ~ really nice work!
You’ve drawn a vivid picture of isolation within a sprawling mansion. This is a scene played out in many a house, student accommodation or care home. real loneliness within reach of others. Well done.
Yes, we all do have our own four walls, don’t we? Sometimes a comfort, sometimes a prison. I enjoyed your perspective, Bren.
You create a lot of atmosphere in this one…and the wondering about the woman give it tension. Good.
I see our minds travel similiar paths. I, too, saw darkness in this painting.
Thanks for stopping by to visit.
you describe the light and the house as if you painted this, or tried to paint the same scene yourself!! :0
neither good nor bad
The safety of four walls isn’t always what it is cracked up to be, one must let lose and get free.
Love this, especially:
“If walls could talk
what would they say about those
hearts they’ve known?”
I so relate to the woman in the room…….I love the streetlamp giving the “quiet glow of courage”. Beautiful, kiddo!
Separate – until we hit blogland! Then we’re quite a crowd!
So true….
Excellently edgy, with an important message at the end.