The Forgetting Place
...smells of wet wood and plaster,
the old stove where something lives,
growling and scratching as I walk by,
an old checkerboard...
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...smells of wet wood and plaster,
the old stove where something lives,
growling and scratching as I walk by,
an old checkerboard,
long forgotten birthday cards and old wooden blocks.
a moldy couch, beautiful once,
pocket doors, broken and leaning.
the stairs up to rooms you don't dare step across,
the floors treacherous and weak.
I come here to forget...or maybe to remember...
I come here to go home.
1-19-2019
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