My eyes drifted towards the wooden planks,
Out the window at the pool cover, sagging from
The leaden weight of snow, a brutal winter.
Her voice flowed over me like the sea, a myriad
Of pebbles of memories rushing towards me,
The accumulation following decades of silence.
A frozen friendship waiting to be thawed,
A seemingly urgent rush of words without a comma,
Nor the briefest semi-colon, my gaze shifts to
The new appliances, the ones that will help sell
This majestic home that may still echo with
Children’s cries, small running feet along the
Floorboards above, the creaking of mattress springs.
Finally I turn my face to her, the jowls of age
Softened in the telling, our eyes meet as we rise,
The chairs scraping, the wheels of my overstuffed
Suitcase rolling towards the door.
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