Beware of big houses.
There can be a lot of emptiness in there.
What good are stairways
if all they do is take you
from one emptiness to another?
Hallways that lead you to just more loneliness.
Carpets are the softest things
that ever touched you.
Choose a bathroom;
there are a lot to choose from.
At least their hard tile floors
make no pretenses.
I preferred the attic
on the third floor.
It was filled with things
that used to have a life.
Live children used to play
with the toys.
I remember one rainy afternoon.
My mother was in the sewing room
oblivious to my presence in the hallway,
so I slowly walked down the stairs,
put on my yellow raincoat,
walked out into the rain
and walked six or seven blocks
to the street where Loretta lived,
the girl I think I loved
but didn't know in third grade.
I stood on the side of the street
opposite her house. I stood there
in the pouring rain for quite a long time;
nobody, I think, saw me,
but nonetheless, I felt I was with a friend.
Finally, I turned around and walked
back to my house.
Mother never missed me.
I took off my yellow raincoat,
walked up the stairway
past my oblivious mother,
found an empty room,
lay down on an empty bed and cried,
just like the rain.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Mar 16, 2021
Mar 16, 2021 at 11:10 AM UTC
Beware of big houses.
There can be a lot of emptiness in there.
What good are stairways
if all they do is take you
from one emptiness to another?
Hallways that lead you to just more loneliness.
Carpets are the softest things
that ever touched you.
Choose a bathroom;
there are a lot to choose from.
At least their hard tile floors
make no pretenses.
I preferred the attic
on the third floor.
It was filled with things
that used to have a life.
Live children used to play
with the toys.
I remember one rainy afternoon.
My mother was in the sewing room
oblivious to my presence in the hallway,
so I slowly walked down the stairs,
put on my yellow raincoat,
walked out into the rain
and walked six or seven blocks
to the street where Loretta lived,
the girl I think I loved
but didn't know in third grade.
I stood on the side of the street
opposite her house. I stood there
in the pouring rain for quite a long time;
nobody, I think, saw me,
but nonetheless, I felt I was with a friend.
Finally, I turned around and walked
back to my house.
Mother never missed me.
I took off my yellow raincoat,
walked up the stairway
past my oblivious mother,
found an empty room,
lay down on an empty bed and cried,
just like the rain.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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