Up the street
and ‘round the corner
Sits an old log house
with only one room in her

Yellow warning signs
nailed here and there
Warn any trespassers
they had better beware

Cobweb squatters
fill every nook and cranny
Birds nests line beams
up high in the attic

Decades of dust carpet
the old wood floor
Where scuff marks once trailed
in and out of the door

Books no longer sit
upon the old cedar shelves
Built into the wall
some say by elves

But I know the truth
though I keep it to myself
This was Grandma’s schoolroom
where she taught us all to count