A big brick house,
Warm colored lights,
The smell of old lead paint
and humid summer nights.
White painted steps,
A large carriage house,
Elephant ear plants
and a hole for a mouse.
Food on the grill,
Fresh cut grass,
The white picket fence life;
I thought it would last.
But we moved from the city
and into the suburbs,
A life after the market crash,
and parents without each other.
For a while with dad
We stayed in great grandpas old house;
The smell of musky old wood,
and a 1970s beige couch.
Moved in with mom,
Dad rented different places,
Never stayed anywhere too long,
Another truck full of boxes,
Another batch of new faces.
Lies were told,
Secrets were kept,
Webs of fallacy,
From a spider’s spinneret.
Don’t tell your mom,
Is a quote from being young;
Difficult to comprehend,
Still, I am not old enough.
Smells and sites,
Are etched in my memory,
But good things last,
And bad things are temporary.
A sisterly bond,
Was born from this struggle,
Trying times,
Sisters made comfortable.
Dark things will happen,
But family adversity is shared;
Kids have a fate bound companion,
A sibling who is always there.
Remember these events,
Don’t completely let go,
It may have been bad,
But at least now you know.
A sisterly bond,
Can arise out of dust,
A harmonious unity,
A sibling to trust.
