Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Not For Sale

Reunion

I woke It up.
It was resting and waiting,
Empty for so long.
I opened it up,
Gave It some air.
It breathed.

Thinking I was alone,
I caressed each room.
It startled me
By playing sounds of life,
Frightening me into the certainty
I wasn't alone.

Taking it apart
brick by brick,
(might as well be)
Erasing personal clutter, & worn foot-paths
So that strangers will
Assess It's worthiness.

Even when we'd taken back everything,
It birthed up more for us to cradle.
Out of the farthest corners of rusted-paint-cans, rat-crap,
chewed-cardboard-beetle-beds:
Grandbabies' photos, wedding planners,
Hand-made Father's day cards, a favorite uncle's watercolors.

It never stops
creaking, moaning, humming.
Habitation.
(Why should an empty home sound uninhabited?)
-
-
-Holidays make me miss my mom, and seek my siblings
This was written a year ago, july, amidst a crying break in the middle of shampooing the carpets of my old home. This theme seems to be emerging with fellow writers this month. -Peace
-
-all rights reserved, 2009

5 comments:

  1. by the sounds of it, you loved that house...

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  2. Christmas presents are for kids.
    Christmas memories are for adults.
    All of the memories!

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  3. Indeed, why the hell should a house be silent? It is impossible if it is a home. Really like this idea. Reminds of Edgar Guest Heap O Livin

    http://www.sofinesjoyfulmoments.com/quotes/heapoliv.htm

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  4. Dianne, you've an interesting perspective and voice. Not one I've encountered elsewhere.

    I'm glad you've family enough to surround you.

    xo
    erin

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  5. House as organic entity. Certainly we share territory here. Maybe there's scope for an anthology about our relationship with houses.

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