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Poem

The monster of a gate commanded my attention
Heavy,wrought iron, ornate. A definite unquestionable boundary
It guided to a beautifully shaped pool 
My gaze traveled to the house, three full stories
I imagined large rooms, the kind that could welcome a 10 foot 
Christmas tree and both sides of the family.
Large shuttered windows strategically placed, it was a beauty.
This house had lived

Mommas had worn the floor rocking their babies 
Cowboys had blown out birthday candles 
And princesses had danced on their daddy’s shoes
How many paths had been paced waiting for that 
Precious one to cross the threshold
How many goodnight kisses had been stolen before they crossed


Stockings had been hung, eggs had been hunted 
Mother’s and Father’s Day presents glued and colored
And heads bowed before supper


The welcoming porch hugged and the perimeter of the front 
Large wicker chairs with plumped pillows on either side of the open
Window while the curtain blew in the breeze
How many glasses of lemonade on hot afternoons, hands raised as
Neighbors passed, and bowls of homemade ice cream after church


What color had the house been, it was now hard to say
Not enough paint left to peel. The shutters hung crooked and the 
Thousands of footsteps had worn the porch thin while small
Houses ate it’s yard
The big gate guarded a stained, empty swimming pool
And the ghost of giggles from days gone by

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