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 7th
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.