Home. a work in progress

And this is the house I grew up in
this is the swing in the back yard
that I fretted over not using more when I was younger
Because then I didn't know how much it would mean

And this is the kitchen floor
Warped and wobbled and covered in green carpeting
And the kitchen drawers we used as tables
When we didn't have any furniture yet

This is the corner of the hall
And these lines and dates
are the tree rings of children
That have grown here

Safe. warm. protected.

And this is the living room
where my father almost died
The year I was 14
And that was a bad year, one of the worst

And these are the window sills where I would sit
above the heater in winter
Watching the snow in this 200 year old house
and not doing school because I wanted to be warm one more moment

And this is the room my sister and I shared
til she moved across the house when I was 11
the walls were pink back then
and I missed her for the first year but said nothing.

And this is the closet where I wrote notes
to nobody in particular
Just because I wanted them to be found
When I was gone.

And this is the front yard that never grew grass, Only moss.
And we would lay there After spinning games
Because it was soft and the trees were very old
And I always liked the shape of them.

And this is the place that I had my first kiss
I was 16 and it was only a moment
I trembled afterwords because I was a shy child
And not used to things so intimate

And out back is the hill that my brothers and sisters and I
would sled down When we were younger
And these are the crab apple trees that we would climb
I still did when I was older, and it didn't matter that I was to big for that.

we raised our first puppy here
Her name was faith and she had eyes that used to smile all the time
When she died we buried her at the edge of the woods.
She was a good dog and I miss her.