Sunday, September 16, 2007

Her first Home:

Quiet today. Reflective.

[Just a final note written,
till I return. ]
~~Here's a poem I wrote, a while back.
It's a poem about my mom's first home. Today, the second year of her passing is past:


The Blue House on Sherman Street

My father was talking tonight

About the Blue House on Sherman Street,

“Where Mom & I lived, with her folks,
After we got married…”

It was up the road, from the Lake,
And I remember being there as a child;
Visits, long after they’d found an apartment,
And, settled into a house,
And, had three kids:
One of which,
Was me.

How it is,
Stay with you,
As you carry them forward,
Tentatively, like those newly married,
~~If only, re-living~~
Or, basking in Sunlight, on a Summer’s Day.

I’ve given an ear to my Pop tonight,
And, among his Stories, I heard:

The closing of another Chapter…The memory, flying backwards…
Only, for a moment,
We were happy there~~
Paired together~~in our remembrances,

Of that Blue House on Sherman Street,
Where the
Beginnings of an end,

Are Cherished.


[Take care. I shall see you all again, asap.]