Flamingo House

RC deWinter

Fairfield, United States

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© 2017 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
:::
What Happened at Flamingo House
:::
It’s been a ferocious hot summer.
Now that I’m old bones in a saggy curtain of skin
I don’t sleep nights near as much as I used to.
I’m awake with the sun, and when it begins
to melt the day into a pool of pink and butter
I sit here on the porch – the only shade around -
and, like as not, take a nap.

:::
Which I did today, but somethin’ must be
prowlin’ out there in the brush ‘cause the birds,
generally quiet when the sun’s sizzlin’,
are kickin’ up a ruckus, and now I’m half-awake,
and hearin’ the birds fussin’ brings Flamingo House to mind.

:::
It’s been empty ever since what happened
happened
off in the back of beyond.

:::
Time was I’d walk out that way once in awhile
jes’ for a little exercise, and when I passed the house
I’d find myself shakin’ my head and sayin’
“My, my…” at the state of it.
All that bright paint faded, cracked and crazed,
the long windows, still barred, smeared with nature’s leavin’s.

:::
All us kids eventually learned the whole story,
as much as could be known, but at the time
we jes’ knew there was trouble at Flamingo House,
and even though it was dark
the birds were fussin’ and screechin’ then, too.

:::
It was a lover’s quarrel – over what nobody knows -
but it must’ve been pretty desperate,
’cause next anybody knew the police were out there
with an ambulance haulin’ Mr. Bob and Mr. George,
all covered up on stretchers, away.

:::
Nobody knew where they come from,
if there was any family to tell or what.
Mr. Bob and Mr. George are layin’ over in the graveyard,
sleepin’ away the long days and nights
right next to each other, because nobody knew
what else to do but what to put them in the ground together.
I guess nobody was ever able to find out,
‘cause the house was emptied out and closed up
and it’s been that way ever since.

:::
Not long after, Jimmy Bell left town.
His folks never mentioned him again.
He might as well’ve been layin’ over there in the graveyard too
Never has come back, neither..

:::
That was a long time ago, and eventually
people stopped guessin’ and speculatin’
and we all jes’ got on with our lives.
I still remember how pretty Flamingo House used to be,
but it’s time to change the channel,
‘cause, like I said, it’s a ferocious hot summer,
and my brain overheats when I try to
put the pieces together and puzzle out what happened.

© 2017 RC deWinter

:::
An old house sits, fading and neglected, locked up tight
in the late afternoon sun.
Reimagined and painted in digital oils from a photograph
by Jay Mantri.

:::
Photoshop, DAP, VP5
:::
Featured in Windows and Doors Only

Artwork Comments

  • LindaPerryMcC
  • RC deWinter
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