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diannePoems
the clanging when the gates open as the dogs bark, shut the gate only to hear rusty metal screech rusty metal, i think i am home gravel crunch under my shoes, crunch, crunch to open the screenless screen door, push aside the heavy sliding second door, i think i am home walk into the canary room with its rich maroon-tiled floor, turn right for the stairs, leave your shoes before you go 10 steps up, i think i am home another door is wide open, smell the waft of dog-shampoo, dog burst through, get slapped on the shins with its heavy wagging tail and invites you the the dark green couch, i think i am home walk on the wooden floor as the bookshelves rattle when i pass by, rattle, rattle, leave my bag on the chair, reach the fridge, look for food and sit on the polished yellow table, i think i am home the last room and its rich dark brown door, with its antique bed: lay down, contemplate, count the squares above it--48 blink, open another door to the balcony, graze the cold cement, i think i am home look into the backyard with patches of dead grass, inhale oxygen, exhale sadness, go back inside and smile, finally, i think i am home as i smell that unique scent of mom in the bathroom, see the table dad made from ply woods, sort my sister's things, smile at my brother's grad picture, sit with the dog on the couch, scratch its ears, i know i am home midnight strikes, detach from the computer, rub tired eyes, brush my teeth on the blue-tiled sink, reach the orange door quietly, take one last glance on the mirror and enter the capiz faux-door of the bedroom we all share, hear all of your soft snores and shufflings under the blanket, collapse on the bed, this is it. i am home.
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
I Am Home.
the clanging when the gates open as the dogs bark, shut the gate only to hear rusty metal screech rusty metal, i think i am home gravel crunch under my shoes, crunch, crunch to open the screenless screen door, push aside the heavy sliding second door, i think i am home walk into the canary room with its rich maroon-tiled floor, turn right for the stairs, leave your shoes before you go 10 steps up, i think i am home another door is wide open, smell the waft of dog-shampoo, dog burst through, get slapped on the shins with its heavy wagging tail and invites you the the dark green couch, i think i am home walk on the wooden floor as the bookshelves rattle when i pass by, rattle, rattle, leave my bag on the chair, reach the fridge, look for food and sit on the polished yellow table, i think i am home the last room and its rich dark brown door, with its antique bed: lay down, contemplate, count the squares above it--48 blink, open another door to the balcony, graze the cold cement, i think i am home look into the backyard with patches of dead grass, inhale oxygen, exhale sadness, go back inside and smile, finally, i think i am home as i smell that unique scent of mom in the bathroom, see the table dad made from ply woods, sort my sister's things, smile at my brother's grad picture, sit with the dog on the couch, scratch its ears, i know i am home midnight strikes, detach from the computer, rub tired eyes, brush my teeth on the blue-tiled sink, reach the orange door quietly, take one last glance on the mirror and enter the capiz faux-door of the bedroom we all share, hear all of your soft snores and shufflings under the blanket, collapse on the bed, this is it. i am home.
dianne
Written by
dianne
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
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