When an old home
is painted and tiled anew
where do all the memories go?
Do they hide between two new coats of paint biding their time?
Where is that wall with a depression
that had horizontal pencil lines
showing how the little one grew from two feet to be taller than a parent?
What of the passionate embraces that had etched themselves on the walls,
smells of food that had spread everywhere while the chaos of anger, peels of laughter, rifts, reprimands having echoed and settled on a dusty loft?
Were they telling themselves that this palimpsest will be investigated sometime soon and in the meantime they'll wait for the paint to peel?
No comments:
Post a Comment