sun burnt through
the cracks in the clouds,
shining down
with tidings of warmth and light
upon this old house of mine.
it could be built on a beach
with all these memories
washing over like saltwater tides.
a choked up feeling
caves across the throat
when i say hello
to the porch steps,
chipping with brown paint
that we paved
back in those days.
it is like saying hello
after such a lengthy goodbye.
the house i grew up in
has finally died.
