The House on the Hill

They are all gone away,
The House is shut and still,
There is nothing more to say.

Through broken walls and gray
The winds blow bleak and shrill:
They are all gone away.

Nor is there one to-day
To speak them good or ill:
There is nothing more to say.

Why is it then we stray
Around the sunken sill?
They are all gone away,

And our poor fancy-play
For them is wasted skill:
There is nothing more to say.

There is ruin and decay
In the House on the Hill:
They are all gone away,
There is nothing more to say.

Edwin Arlington Robinson

There could be more to say of course! This little house isn't in quite as bleak a condition as the one in the poem - the doors and windows are intact. It belongs to a Frenchman apparently but he rarely visits. Oddly it's facing inwards, rather than outwards to the sea just behind it, but it's well positioned. I like the way the sky seemed to be engulfing it.
I'm just back from a perishing three hours in the community market shop down in Kilcrohane, doing my stint. To say it's quiet down there is a bit of an understatement, though I did get one customer which was more than passed through in the morning. The shop is in an old creamery and is open to the elements. There is a tiny bit boarded off for shelter from the wind but there are dire notices about putting the heater on - 40c an hour ! I was asked if I would like to be on the commitee. For one who's not very good at saying no, my answer was swift and to the point!
The coast road is now open again after the storms - the road has been repaired but the sea walls are still down, a lot of restoration still needed.