Friday, September 19, 2014

Imprompt Home

Home

My home’s supposed to be an empty nest;
our two birdies flew the coop,
but now we care for two nonverbal people,
a shuffler and a wheeler.

The house is clean enough
to keep away the health department
and dirty enough to know my time
is spent on other worthwhile things—

like writing, that shows an interesting
person hides in there somewhere,  
and exercising and praying enough
to keep body and soul together.

Paintings, from places I traveled,
hang with a picture from Hawaii,
the only state I haven’t visited,
calling to me, “Aloha!" Someday.

Home's also stocked with books, photos,
and knickknacks—memorabilia
of layer upon layer of people and events
which are the woven fiber of me.  

3 comments:

vivinfrance said...

I love your home, which closely resembles ours, but better written!

Jules said...

Lived in is best.
Oh to the collections we keep...

Keep writing!
Cheers from one empty nester to another.
Our chicks' chicks visit often.
They keep me busy too. :)

Anonymous said...

You manage to weave yours. Mine's sort of felted (to put it generously)