IT
It's not just a house
a place to park a van
a lawn to mow
It's where she lived
until IT took her away
to a much smaller place
Without memories
or trinkets or pictures
in frames forever
Where she looks
out the window
at foreign trees
And the smell of
someone else's cooking
fills the halls
As she fingers
through albums
of store-bought people
Wrapped in an unfamiliar
quilt she made from
grandchildren's clothes
That doesn't keep
her warm and
comforted anymore
Nothing behind
nothing ahead
nothing here
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© Doghaus
15 May 2018
I own all rights to the text in this post.
Image https://goo.gl/images/P3M9an
Honestly,
Doghaus