In a cabin on a hill

I remember walking up a path to a secluded area in Hyden, Ky around 1962, maybe? We reached a cabin that was old and falling apart, abandoned. The area around the cabin was flat with no grass but weeds, etc. We walked inside the cabin and the fireplace was falling through from years of neglect. I saw two cups on the old wooden table. I walked the path of the two once young couple that lived there. She was beaten so many times as his wife. I saw the film on the coffee, the door open and a felt the sadness as she realized she had poisened him and ran for her life. She made it to the edge of the plath I had just climbed and died. He did not make it that far. A mystery that only I felt the pain and truth thus far. So, why be concerned of a story so old and unimportant? To keep the memories alive. Curious, maybe, just maybe, I’ll tell you the story of the cabin on the hill…