A House Is an Arrow Pointing Up
What is the word
for the people who lived in the house
before you
Not neighbor,
not benefactor
not even kin
though certainly a kind of kin
And those who get the house next
are also in that inheritance
You, who have slept here as I will soon sleep
You, who have been without clothes in these walls
every day a few times
You, standers at the sink and lookers out the window here
to see the bright purple clematis
resting its weight on the fence
You who will be here one day
loneliness is inaccurate
and yet we all will feel it
I love this poem, Hannah. It's something I've thought about quite a bit, without the thoughts ever coalescing into words - and I wonder if the people who live in our house ever think of us this way. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThis is why I so appreciated the first and only time I've owned a brand-new house to make my home. Still, I think how sad it is when a home of many, many years is razed and the physical evidence of memory is lost.
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