Ode to my Childhood Home

You stand tall on the knee of the river
The oldest of your kind
A mound of Imperial Red
combined with daft masonry;
You hold together well
nonetheless

Inside you cradle my thousands of memories
Creeks in the floorboards
Crying children
Lipstick smudging
Failing appliances; work orders
Imagination
Verbal arguments
Silent treatments
Grocery bags
Cuts and scrapes
Naps on couches
Love

Tomorrow, I leave you, but
I won’t be going far
Always within arm’s reach
You’re one for the books
My ancestral home:
You’ll forever stand
on the knee of the river

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