David Hightower - Invisible House - poetry - Appalchian Heritage

Published in the Spring Issue of Appalachian Heritage


Invisible House

Few give the old homesite a glance,
just a small hill in a large pasture,
gazing down on the sparse traffic
of Dry Creek Road.
It is invisible even to memory;
its existence known only in tales
passed down to scattered descendants.
In summer cows graze
its lush green roof.
In fall flocks of birds migrate
through its walls.
In winter cold rain floods
through transparent rooms.
It is only in spring
that the unseen house hints its presence.
Cars begin to slow,
occupants swivel their heads and marvel.
Emerged from bulbs sprouted eighty years ago,
daffodils in their hundreds
explore the suddenly yellow hill
searching for the hand that planted them.