A blanket mutes

Parts of the hillside

Patterned in dark

Green spades,

Sprinkled with purple

Morning-glory blooms.

Leaning down to

The river, shadows

Dealt cool passages.

Once homes, now ruins

Lay beneath.

The stubborn base of

A chimney rises

To a covered dome.

One roof nearby

Staves off the ivy mass.

Its rusted and ribbed

Steel sheets

Are carefully layered.

It’s getting past dusk

And no one inside

Has turned on a light.