135th and Crocker
That’s the corner that tells the story of my childhood
If it was a movie you would see scenes
Of my sisters and I running up and down the streets of the neighborhood
A peach house with a burgundy roof
In between these walls was living proof
That real families still existed
This home is what I miss
The day we moved
I walked around to each room
To recall what was once there
The memories
Sent chills through me
Because the walls were now bare
And then the tears fell
And hit the floor
I wanted to mark this territory
Because no one could love it more
This was my home
And one day I’ll reclaim it
I’ll drive by
Look for a for sale sign
And it’ll be mine once again
I’ll be home again
And the walls will say
Welcome back old friend
How lucky you are to have such warm memories of your childhood! I like the details in this poem!
ReplyDeleteThis is very moving Nura -- nicely written... ;)
ReplyDeleteThe pain of pulling up long developed and cherished roots is so very acute - you have expressed it quite well!
...rob
My Daddy just sold the home I would apply this poem with. I haven't let myself grieve for that loss yet LOL. But I sooo understand where you're coming from.
ReplyDeletehttp://lori102870.blogspot.com/2009/04/in-your-absencenapowrimo-17-part-2by-me.html
love where you took this poem!
ReplyDeletevery nice
ReplyDeletesuch a touching tribute to your childhood home. i know this feeling well.
ReplyDeleteI moved a lot as a child, but my grandparents home is like this for me. I know some day it will be gone, and it will break my heart.
ReplyDeleteI love your poetry, so I've picked your blog as a recipient for the Kreativ Blogger award! Congrats!