Shaded Eaves

An orchard that’s hectares big
Its aft runs a - unsullied water - creek
Carpeted green hued grass that is inches thick
A horizon that shows just a glimpse of a snowy peak

The plot once barren is shared by brothers three
Plough, trough, shovel in hands, they were pretty carefree
Working the land, down in the dirt, their palms all sweaty
Dreaming of a day they could live a life free and easy

Three men, a trio of family, a single bungalow
Two stories tall, a huge balcony for moments to mellow
In times past, long days of working until the sun casts shadows
Building a life, a future but looking no further than tomorrow

Romantic endings are really bollocks in the realm of reality
So arguments, tensions and a locking of horns were quite plenty
Didn’t get in the way though of their focus on ideals so lofty
Of living a life together blessed by the God Almighty

Generations past the golden aims are starting to fray
Utopian objectives mostly unachievable could no longer hold sway
Divergent interest, selfish inclinations putting long held visions at bay
All eyeing for a bigger bite, a larger share, the proverbial payday

Now the graying grand bungalow is all crumbly and rickety
Its occupants too busy, too engrossed in the parlay
The plumbing clogged, cracks unplastered, basement unattended and dusty
Do they not notice, don’t they care, or just wishing these away

Then one day
When emotions were in play
A tweaking of notions
The setting of motions
A casting of doubts
The severing of already weakened clouts
A bullying an ousting
Of persistent mongering
Insults whispered aloud
Insolence mucked so proud
A cocktail of fear and hatred so blunt
A once brother thus shunned

I too have a say, he says
In this house to live, to play, to stay
You’re too much, the other two though countered
Taking everything and leaving nothing, they thundered
Amidst the rising litany of shouts, the eaves do tremble
Symbolic shame of blood relations once so humble?

Outside the creaking bungalow the wind rustles
Blowing fallen leaves tempering dusty panes and musty spaces
Forgotten plough, trough, shovel, rusting in shades
A bungalow, an orchard, a dream soon fades