Emptiness lurks behind the dark windows watching the road for one to relieve its fate that fills the weathered walls and hangs over its head with an air of decay. There was a time when it was not when the now abandoned rooms rang with laughter and songs when the floorboards shook with the rushing feet of children racing to welcome their father home. But time sent those voices away to heed the call their destiny makes. How unkind it had been to the love breathing on the hearts that in this once-upon-a-time home dwelled. Outside it sees Bleeding Hearts rising from overgrown grass, honeysuckle gone wild, wrapped around the rusted mailbox hiding old secrets with their pure flowers and sweet fragrance. For DVERSE POETS' PUBS' Looking Out/Looking In prompt which asks the community to write about windows. The picture above was taken from inside the hunting lodge in Borderland State Park. The bottom picture shows an old mailbox in front of an abandoned home somewhere in rural Maine. That house inspired the poem.