Monday, January 3, 2011

1642 South Washington

By John I. Blair

In Google Street View
Grass grew in the cracks
Of the broad cement slab
I’d watched poured while I played.

An old shot in our album
Shows me in big boots
All at sea in a puddle
On the gravel we’d had.

My body, my life
Started under that roof,
Behind those two windows
Like eyes on the street.

I learned to crawl, walk
On that polished oak floor,
Ran down the hall,
Squealing with glee.

Like a big nesting box,
Snug and secure,
It sheltered and warmed,
Then released me to fly.

I’ve been gone, strayed
From that cluster of rooms
Since Elvis was King;
But it looms in my heart.

And though I well know
A house is a scheme
Of boards, bricks and brass,
Held together with wishes,

It can grow to a dream,
To memories of hopes;
So I cried just a bit
When I saw what had passed.

©2009 John I. Blair

Click on John I. Blair for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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