Story Rooms Pantoum By Sharon Gross

A realtor padlocked the front door

The house she grew up in was for sale

Looking through the front window

Where does the glass start and the falling tears end?

The house she grew up in was for sale

Rooms now empty told so many of her stories

Where does the glass start and the falling tears end?

They remain separate for a clear but blurred view.

Rooms now empty told so many of her stories,

Clothes pushed under beds, a hidden Lolita, night music, coffee smells

They remain separate for a clear but blurred view

Deep inside, the memories pile up like cultivated earth.

Clothes pushed under beds, a hidden Lolita, night music, coffee smells

Birthday parties, new babies, the Lord’s Supper on the wall

Deep inside, the memories pile up like cultivated earth

Her feelings jumping from joy to sorrow.

Birthday parties, new babies, the Lord’s Supper on the wall

Eventually her remembrances there will have an end

Her feelings jumping from joy to sorrow

And they stay in her mind and heart for always.

Eventually her remembrances there will have an end

New places will bring new experiences

And they stay in her mind and heart for always

Knowing those times were some of her best.

An adult, she stands on childhood ground

Looking through the front window

The last time she will see her past from here

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