White Door On A Yellow House

The mother of a best friend I had when I was young was murdered in 2009. This was written out of the thoughts that the event brought up.

White Door On A Yellow House

 

At house 146 a white door to the yellow house was always unlocked,

It said welcome visitor

The wood floors would squeak under your feet

Can you hear the shrieks of little girls playing hide and seek in the kitchen

As their mom shoos them away?

The house beyond the white door embraced all

 

Then death was welcomed in,

A familiar shadow shut the door and abandoned all control,

Cold steel was the final embrace

Then he slipped out leaving the kitchen in stony silence except for the running faucet

 

3 summer droughts,

3 killing frosts,

3 times, new years closed the door on memories,

3 spring thaws

Passed over the house that was 146

 

The white door has flaking skin, no heart inside

Just a cold dusty oven

The lawn is turning brown

The mailbox has been stripped of the numbers 146

A flake of peeled white paint floats off the door

The lattice under the porch is mangled and dirty

A tattered for sale sign in the yard,

Selling nightmares to the town.