Brecon's Poetry Book...

Home

carpet
four walls
and a roof
makes a home
one in which to house
people

but
what about tiles
of a kitchen floor
used for skating
ice skating
socks play pretend
gliding across smooth ice
pastel dress dancing

what about corridors
a make-shift memory lane
it's an art gallery
years of paintings
of drawings
of snap shots
snap shots of forgotten time
stick figures and imagination
frayed and faded
memories 

what about the back yard
swings that gave us wings
chains turned copper
the jungle gym
the highest point
somehow taller than Everest
as we jumped
not looking down
but looking up
looking out
wind rushing and whooshing
feet landing
a firm reality underfoot

what about detail
the chocolate block door
its beauty obscured by a screen
the silver knobs of a bath tub
red for hot
blue for cold
and the bubbles that used to fill it
or the three steps
that led downstairs
and the amount of times I wailed
when I scraped my heel too close
as I rushed past
bustling and bursting
with an aura of life
quite indescribable. 

I know now,
I have to close the door
to walk away
from the wild lavender
and trodden carpet
that obscures creaky floorboards
I know they say
"home is where the heart is"
where the people you love are
but I love this space
I'm secretly scared -
scared to leave this place.

My home
a house yes,
but full of details and secrets
in which it houses life
mine and everyone's
whoever passed through
it holds memories
the different people I've been
spread over time
minds bring the still to life
inhabiting the air
dancing
laughing
being
everyone existing
I may have to say goodbye
but -
it will always be home.