Better In Memory

Orange! What a fun color for a house, orange. I cannot name many others so daring. Palm trees lines the driveway as our RV rumbled in, my cousins and I staring, At our grandparent’s Florida house, the best part of the year, It’s short, squat, perfect, and the ocean very near. The backyard is a plot of sand, a hammock guards the corner, I was approximately thirteen, maybe a little older, When they said Gma and Papa had moved to a new house down the street, The house is tall with spiraling staircases; it’s clean and white and neat. Now when we fly into town we pass the orange house on our way to the white, I can’t help but do a double take, it really is a sight. The orange is dull and faded, the green more prominent instead, As the winding plants and palm trees start to hide, they slowly start to spread, The backyard is a patch of beige, tumbled with weeds, No sign of life or purple treasure chests we used to play hide-and-seek.