The Old Cabin

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads:  Poetry & Fiction with Magaly,
Snow Birthed Tales
If you choose Poetry
– please write 13 lines or fewer
– use one (or all) of these words: snow, cabin, ice


Covered in layers of snow/ice, bird
house entrance had been cleared.
Who would have kept their home
accessible? No one had used
this old cabin in years. She pushed
ahead, scratching coarse brown
grasses with her boots. What
on earth had behooved grandmother
to leave her this isolated cabin
on a desolate piece of land. Hands
on hips, she stands fixed, staring–
afraid to go further.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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15 Responses to The Old Cabin

  1. There is such intensity in the way she faces nature with her boots. I wonder if she had seen the place before it became hers. I wonder what she’ll do next.


  2. Sherry Marr says:

    This is an intriguing read. I wish someone had left me an old cabin somewhere in the wilderness, LOL. Too late now, they missed their chance. Smiles.


  3. Gillena Cox says:

    Her lingering fear is where her future in cabin will be hatched. Good of her to pause there


    much love…


  4. Kerry O'Connor says:

    Grandma has provided the protagonist with a world of opportunity, a space of her own.


  5. Rommy says:

    I love that this poem hints at family stories. I wonder about the grandmother, and this grandchild who clearly has questions.


  6. Looking at the cabin can be most disheartening! Nice write Sara!



  7. gypsy snow says:

    I love the ending:
    on hips, she stands fixed, staring–
    afraid to go further.”


  8. … somehow I think Grandmother has a plan…


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