by A. Gagliardi
I. The fresh bud
The newness of life beginning.
Fresh painted walls,
newly refinished floors,
sawdust & plaster
fresh from renewal of someone else’s house.
We make this home our own.
We imprint ourselves into the essence
of this space we begin to occupy;
Add our needlework---our own creations.
Add the fragrance we wear, the detergents & food smells
unique to our time and place.
We claim our new possession.
But it, too, claims us.
II. Full Bloom
This house is alive!
The sounds of laughter and running feet echo off the walls;
The smell of sweat-socks and fresh-baked bread
mingle with the smell of
crushed Dandelions and ready-to-be changed diapers.
Windows and walls display
small finger smudges and preschool art.
The never-ending dirty clothes pile
lurks beside a machine
that is never still.
but bears the burden
of growing, boisterous children.
III. The Last Petal Lingers
After all the children are gone.
Their life prints,
Kept alive inside these walls that cradle jelly stains & crayon.
Their life-smell has permeated
the very foundation.
Their laughter and cries whisper from dimmed corners.
Chairs creak with burdens inscribed.
And you’d be wrong
if you thought this house had died.
It’s still ALIVE
our children are like butterflies
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