Times of Old

Times of old fill me to the brim of excitement

As I am lost in the raucous history of now deserted places from times past.

Seeping into my bones are the emotions left behind 

In old shuttered buildings

And melancholy creaking trees 

That whisper age-old secrets

Into my ear

Like a tickle,

A hoarse laugh,

A message driven by horse and carriage--

Across miles vast.

Now a ghostly row of dilapidated buildings,

This stop is not one openly sought,

But for us history-loving folk,

 This meager row inspires in us

An ecstatic giddiness,
A wonderment over the secrets held here
(For there must be many)

As we relive a part of history

 Through the touch of a lens,

Through tromping across historic ground--

From which we are left
Brimming with awe.