My Grandmother’s House

Feeling nostalgic today…

Behind the great pine,
that year round Christmas tree,
sits my grandmother’s small white home,
cloaked now in memories.
The once bright paint has faded
with the many visiting years,
and chips and swims in wind gusts,
that bring my eyes to tears.
The surrounding streets have all grown smaller.
The houses too have shrunk,
or maybe I’m just bigger now,
my childhood scale defunct.
The small brown lawn has all but died,
made of blades of grass
that have surrendered to the sun-
Where once I took beginning steps,
and later learned to run.
Years and pets and people passed
through this little piece of world.
Few would see that though.
For now its just a small white house,
behind a grand old pine’s green boughs.

Written April 30, 2013

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