There's an old house.by the Bard of Bat Yam (#BardOfBatYam) , Poet Laureate Of Zion (#PoetLaureateOfZion) , Stephen Darori (#StephenDrus,#StephenDarori)

There's an old house. 
If you turn right from Jaffa Road, 
528 is smaller than memory. 
Bricks belong to strangers now 
and the dogwood a spindly shiver, 
bare brittle as my secrets buried 
beneath concrete, my foundation 
where 528 sets gray in brown. 
If you dig deep you might find 
the Indian penny I hid once 
upon a shiny day. 

Change greens with age. 
My initials are eroded in a web 
of cracked patio. Somewhere 
in winter wind you'll hear whispers. 
Grind of roller skates, flap of sheets, 
a careless singsong of girls disappearing through a screen door.