Home Again
Home is an elusive moment that gets harder to identify as time brings changes.
A DAZE OF BLUE, A HAZE OF YOU
home to me: a place i took for granted 6,000 times and more: having the same telelphone #: same address, parents, brothers, friends: sameness of a small town in new england
How it all rearranges, full of new faces and the loss of old places.
IT'S ALL THE SAME
home to me: the way fall nipped at your ankles as winter approached: icicles a foot long hanging off the back porch: the whiteness of the land : the blackness of the tire trampled slush: the thrill of sledding, skating, and skiing: the coldness of face, hands, and hiney.
Home is a moment of truth of acceptance of all we have or have not to do.
DAT'S THE GAME!
home to me: knowing the sands of Nantasket in which my grandpa proposed to my grandma: the rides at Paragon Park that sparked the feeling freedom of flying
Promises that never came true and surprises rising like morning dew as the sunlight slices through
NOW WATCHA GOING TO ..... DO
home to me: the little lines crisscrossed into a face of worn linen: a million thangs is home: the smells of familiar foods culturally ingrained into a love of hot grease, cheap meat, garden grown greens, bread, butter, salt, pepper and sugar.
Going to? rest easy in the past and treat each day anew, as if it could be my last that fits as softly as an old and friendly shoe.
a day anew.
About the Creator
Diane Poole
Ageless
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Diane Poole and writers in Poets and other communities.
Martha's Pears
Martha was old and Deedee was ignorant of the most important things. Deedee had shown up in her kitchen uninvited, a little rag-tag bit of a very white young woman. Martha wondered who had brought her. She looked out the window at several young men waiting for the fish head soup to be served. The girl had no manners. She sat on the countertop that stretched along the back wall. Did she not know counters were for food prep, not dirty Levi's? She had to be told to sit in the nearby chair.
By Diane Poole3 years ago in Earth
I want to grow
I want to grow and I’m going to grow. I’m not going to be this version of myself anymore and you won’t know who I become. You won’t talk to her, or be by her side as she goes through life— you won’t know her. Her heart won’t even remember the small moments that’ve clung to it for so long. I’ll watch her embrace a new life that has nothing to do with you, and there won’t be a space waiting like there has been for far too long.
By Aathavi Thanges6 days ago in Psyche
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.