For Sale
There is beauty in coming home
as if you are the same person
who once climbed up on the roof,
or scaled the oak tree,
or searched under rocks for an ant farm
& yet there is something unbearable
about the splintering deck,
the damaged shingles,
the mint green paint
& your mother is waiting for you
but her hair is gray & her eyes worn
& her hug does not feel as strong
& she seems smaller
everything does
& there is beauty in selling
this house that was your home
in seeing the new owners
& imagining the new lives
waiting to be lived
You do not admit,
not yet--
that you are both happy
& burdened by this thought
Inspired by:
"Where the Crawdads Sing," Delia Owens, 2018
"All the Bright Places."Jennifer Niven, 2016
Excerpt from All the Bright Places
“I stand in front of the mirror and study my face.…It is the face of a sad, lonely girl something bad has happened to. I wonder if my face will ever look the same again, or if I’ll always see it in my reflection - Finch, Eleanor, loss, heartache, guilt, death.”