Prologue Home

There was something about the pink walls of my childhood bedroom that I hadn't noticed until I had to bid them goodbye

The blue carpeting caught the tears that fell 

And I shut the door

Hoping to delay the inevitable


A common word

Not necessarily a sad one

The ball moves

The swing moves

The girl is moving

It shouldn't cut to the core when a verb becomes an adjective

But this time it does

I've left my mark on this room

Scratches from unsupervised playing

Purple stains on the carpet originating from my favorite nail polish

And lipstick stains from the time I stole Mom's lipstick and pretended the wall was Prince Charming

But soon the walls will be painted over

The carpet ripped up and replaced

All by my new least favorite people

The people who will demolish my creaky old swingset

Knock over the rotting fence

And plant different flowers

The new owners of my home

They'll never know what it was like to walk into a new kitchen with green cupboards

We painted them yellow

They'll never feel the tire swing that stained our jeans black beneath them

We took it down

They didn't see every birthday or playdate

and only the house knows our secrets now

I'll see this house during the summer

As I pass by towards an opposite destination

I'll see my dog

And my big brothers pushing me on the swings

But soon I'll have to say goodbye yet again

To my prologue home


This poem is about: 
My family


Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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