Where I grew up

I love going to my parents' house. I love the way that even ten years later I still feel "at home" there. I hope I always do. Even though their house looks better than it ever did while all five of us (I am the oldest child of five if you didn't know) and our friends and foster kids, neighbor kids, dogs and cats lived there. Its the place I fell in love for the first time. It is the place I felt safest during some difficult times of my life, where I went to escape from bad relationships. I'm glad my kids get to spend time there, making their own memories.

the house is quiet
yet sit still,
you can hear
the echos of that boisterous bunch.

the walls are clean
fresh paint covers
all the marks
made by years of kids coloring.

the front porch waits
for conversations
while watching
electrical storms and sunsets

the trees have grown
or died off
branches spread
and new trees live in lone spaces.

the smells of youth
filter through
odors of new memories made.

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