Moving Day

Musty boxes Resting belligerently in forgotten corners Gathering dust Waiting to be dissected Eviscerated Purged of their jumbled bits and bobs The oddments of a family of lives Muscled arms heft them in a tanned sweaty embrace A bumping scuffling journey ensues The same arms gently relinquish their burden Deposit them again on a cold tiled floor A new house Opened again at last after months of lonely brooding A gloomy blossom it has finally bloomed Throwing wide its cavernous embrace to four strangers A motley crew of hopes and dreams and striving passions How loud their voices How bright their darting smiles Bare feet thunder on wooden stairs Doors creak on rusted hinges Two fleeting youths stampede through stale chambers Exploring Examining Acclimating to this shadowy skeleton of whitewashed brick Moldering roof tiles Terraced garden littered with brittle husks of summer leaves The children race and dart from room to room Filling them with their strident cries The house shifts and groans under this sudden onslaught Unaccustomed to such boisterous unapologetic life But as night falls and darkness draws near Weathered bricks hunker down with contented sighs No more will the house be a forgotten shell Home to naught but shadows and scuttling roaches Now at last life has returned It has a purpose once more And having a purpose is all that anything Even a house Could ever want