White, through the gate it gleamed and slept br In shattered sunshine. The parched garden flowers br Their scarlet petals from the beds unswept br Like children unloved and ill-kept br Dreamed through the hours Two blue hydrangeas by the blistered door burned brown br Watched there, and no one in the town br Cared to go past it night or day br Though why this was they wouldn't say br br But I, the stranger, knew that I must stay. br Pace up the weed-grown paths and down - br Till one afternoon - there is just a doubt - br Bit I fancy I heard a tiny shout - br From an upper window a bird flew out - br And I went my way.