My Past Homes

All the homes where I once lived,

Were financed by different lenders,,,

The houses repainted by new owners,

Now refurbished with newer timbers.

I wonder if they feel connections,

Involving any of the house’s history…

Do any of the neighbor’s memories

Unravel any legend or mystery?

They will never know the calving

On Christmas eve facing certain harm…

Or a 7^th grade neighbor’s smoking,

Burnt down our original barn.

They’ll never hear the grand piano

Playing nighty by the pond..

Entertaining the whole family:

Horses, geese and wildlife, far beyond.

They will never get the morning paper,

Beneath roosting pheasants in the trees,

Or smell the rotting carp in summer,

In the sweltering summer breeze.

John Boy, the greatest cat ever,

Has a grave forever unknown…

Next to the bluest Parakeet,

The bravest budgie ever flown.

I hope all future owners,

Feel a sense of the magic there…

I discovered years ago,

This best spot on the hemisphere.