THE HOUSES IN THE HOLLER

The houses on the ridge are sad ones.
In winter they hide beneath snow.
Red and grey roofs peek out upon the rise,
and all the tears inside seep out the gallery. 

The houses in the holler are sly ones.
In winter they hide among the boughs.
Grey clapboards list among the pines,
any tears inside them dried up long ago.

Hard to love a place remote as this,
gripped by silence day after day. The man
you loved does not love you, and those
who did are dead and gone behind the church. 

A woman left this house when all the leaves
were gold, twisting in the wind and barely holding on.
When winter storms arrive, even stubborn ones let go.
They drift toward the place they’d end up anyway. 

The houses in the holler are not strong ones.
Like some women, they will collapse upon the forest floor.
I have a photo of my grandma’s cabin here.
A cedar now weaves its way out the back door.

Denise Rogers is the Associate Editor of MockingHeart Review, and is the author of The Scholar’s Daughter, a collection of poems published by Louisiana Literature Press. Her poems and reviews have appeared in Sliver of Stone, Word-River, Louisiana Literature, and The Alaska Review, as well as other publications. She is the Director of the University’s Writing Center. She also teaches literature and composition courses in the English Department of the University of Louisiana-Lafayette.