|The Revenant by Andrew Wyeth, 1949|
They say there are no comebacks, but
amidst the sad detritus…what?
A man that’s barely there walks by;
a house with curtains shredded, torn,
the features simply too care-worn…
and hues? They are in short supply.
Yet, once this place and person meant
a world that’s far from ‘revenant.’
I wish I knew the reasons why.
Notes: The form is Nove Otto. The poem was inspired by the above Andrew Wyeth painting, as thoughtfully provided for by Magpie Tales, for the weekly prompt.