Ashley Gleason Poet Bio

Our Old House

Old house 

I miss our old house 
I miss walking up the wooden staircase after school in the summer 
To smell the air becoming more humid
I miss seeing the cars of our grandparents 
Parked for a visit on the side of the front yard
I miss the cats running on the floor 
And the poppies blooming 
I miss the blaring music on Sunday mornings 
Which frequently woke me from lazy dreaming
To the smell of breakfast cooking and Dad talking in the kitchen 
I miss the strong coffee & constant chatter 
I miss the hot tub in the winter time 
And family gatherings 
I miss our old house

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Silent One November 18, 2020 at 2:48 AM I think many will relate with your poem, you expressed the feelings very well.. Ashley Gleason July 31, 2022 at 7:48 AM Thank you very much, I was lucky enough to grow up in a beautiful home in upstate NY and never moved until i moved out at 22