Out here in the exact middle of the day, <br />This strange, gawky house has the expression <br />Of someone being stared at, someone holding <br />His breath underwater, hushed and expectant; <br /> <br />This house is ashamed of itself, ashamed <br />Of its fantastic mansard rooftop <br />And its pseudo-Gothic porch, ashamed <br />of its shoulders and large, awkward hands. <br /> <br />But the man behind the easel is relentless. <br />He is as brutal as sunlight, and believes <br />The house must have done something horrible <br />To the people who once lived here <br /> <br />Because now it is so desperately empty, <br />It must have done something to the sky <br />Because the sky, too, is utterly vacant <br />And devoid of meaning. There are no <br /> <br />Trees or shrubs anywhere--the house <br />Must have done something against the earth. <br />All that is present is a single pair of tracks <br />Straightening into the distance. No trains pass. <br /> <br />Now the stranger returns to this place daily <br />Until the house begins to suspect <br />That the man, too, is desolate, desolate <br />And even ashamed. Soon the house starts <br /> <br />To stare frankly at the man. And somehow <br />The empty white canvas slowly takes on <br />The expression of someone who is unnerved, <br />Someone holding his breath underwater. <br /> <br />And then one day the man simply disappears. <br />He is a last afternoon shadow moving <br />Across the tracks, making its way <br />Through the vast, darkening fields. <br /> <br />This man will paint other abandoned mansions, <br />And faded cafeteria windows, and poorly lettered <br />Storefronts on the edges of small towns. <br />Always they will have this same expression, <br /> <br />The utterly naked look of someone <br />Being stared at, someone American and gawky. <br />Someone who is about to be left alone <br />Again, and can no longer stand it.<br /><br />Edward Hirsch<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/edward-hopper-and-the-house-by-the-railroad-1925/
