Out

 

 

She shuffles to this place so strange
everything's different but its all the same
sidewalk split by one lightning crack
mailbox some non-color that might once have been
black?
a porch so tired she hears it sigh
paint once crisp is now mottled gray
light bleeds out warm and slow
 (and that she knows is not her own)
from warped windows without screens

and she finally knows what it means
the difference of house and home.

Reviews

[eaglefeather]

i recently moved and this poem reminded me of seeing my old house when others lived there you captured the feeling perfectly. good work

[Lydia Shutter]

This is wonderful! There is a huge difference between a house and home and you captured that so well here. Have to tell you, though, I had to copy and paste it in a new window and increase the font size to read it. Good work. Lydia