It was hardly a gingerbread house.
Only the roof was gingerbread colour.
We thought the old woman living there was a witch.
Later we didn’t believe in witches
and we knew she was no more a witch
than the raindrops
hanging from the trees
were really diamonds,
though she said that they were.
Now the house stands empty and derelict
and we know no one has lived there for centuries.
Only the raindrops remain
frozen in time
hard as diamonds
just as she said they were