Abandoned places make wonderful subjects for photographers. I am attracted to them like everyone else. Especially the old homesteads that can be found scattered across the Great Basin. As you pick your way through old sites you wonder: Who lived here? What was it like with just the wind and meadowlarks keeping you company day after day? The nearest neighbor might be as far away as forty miles over bad road. What finally happened to make you pick up and leave?
On a recent trip to Eastern Oregon I found two such places and in one case was lucky enough to have some clouds race by for some of the photos. Black and white seems to suit this type of picture. I am not much of a poet but was inspired to write a little poem thinking about these forlorn and lonely places. They stand alone while the elements work on wiping them off the landscape.
This is a Nonet. Only nine lines with the first having nine syllables and subtracting a syllable for each line thereafter. Rhyming is optional too.
Waiting for them to come back as if
They never left you in the wind
and brutal sun to shoulder
Winter’s heavy snows year
after year for them
You wait until
you give in