I mentioned this past Tuesday I’ve been rather busy lately, but I couldn’t let Poetry Friday slip past without sharing something! This is my newest poem; I hope you like it.
Goodbye
The cupboards, bare.
The counters, clean.
The table…gone.
……….The floor
is worn from years
of paws and soles
that scuttled through the door.
.
Boxes, packed.
……….Papers, tossed.
No food, no clothes;
……………no spouse.
With one small word
the home I loved
…..goes back
……………to just
…………………….a house.
© 2015, Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved
My folks, who are both in their 80’s, are at a crossroads, trying to decide what to do with their home and property. Mom is in a nursing home, so dad needs to sell the home I grew up in so he’ll have the money to afford her care…but, as you might imagine, he’s having a difficult time making that decision. I wrote this last night, after visiting with each of them.
On a lighter note, Keri is hosting Poetry Friday today (in-between egg-gatherings and honeybee-swarms) at Keri Recommends – and shares a poem Irene Latham wrote about Keri’s “little” farm that is growing, growing, growing!
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Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme 
A beautiful response to a heart-wrenching situation, Matt. Best wishes to you and your parents.
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Thank you, Sally.
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A home goes back to just a house. That says it all. How sad when these decisions must be made. This pulls on my heartstrings. My parents are thankfully still able to stay in their home. I dread the day when they can’t.
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It’s funny how none of us expect it to happen – yet it happens more often these days. We are able to live longer now, but not necessarily as well.
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I love how this poem works for all ages, except maybe the “spouse.” But I can’t imagine how the poem would go without the HOME to HOUSE thing. Do you notice that the difference between home and house might be simply US? Nice one, Matt.
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Thanks, Heidi…I always felt it’s the people who make the house a home.
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When I think of all the living that makes a house a home, it’s sad (and brilliant) to realize it goes back to becoming a house once again. Just lovely, Matt. All the best to you and your parents.
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Thank you, Deb, I’m glad you liked it!
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I’ve done this with both mine and my husband’s mother’s home. It was hardest with Arvie’s mother because it was the house he grew up in too. He would have loved this poem, Matt. It encompasses all the feelings that are both wonderful when we love a home so much, but hard when we have to leave. Best wishes to you and your parents.
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It’s the house I grew up in – still has 70’s-era wallpaper, still on a dirt road, still a home – so for this poem I placed myself in both dad’s AND my shoes. We’ll have to see what comes of all of it.
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That’s lovely, Matt. At ILA, I wrote a poem (during a session) about leaving a house (we’re hoping to move next year), and reading your beautiful poem inspires me to go back and play with mine some more. Thanks!
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I’m so glad you liked it, Laura – please do go play with your poem – and home – a little while longer!
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Goodbyes are always hard. So sorry!
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Thanks, Ruth…I suppose that’s life.
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Matt, your poem beautifully captures the heart-wrenching sorrow of having to say goodbye to a home filled with so many memories. The lists perfectly depict the mechanics of packing up and discarding. Somehow you’ve introduced just enough rhyme to echo the idea of revisiting items as decisions are made, and the structure really shows disjointedness and unfamiliar territory. Bravo! However, I am sorry for the need to say goodbye to your family’s beloved home.
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I appreciate that, Joyce. Even though I haven’t lived there in years, it’s still home – and the thought of it just being a “house” is still awkward.
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So sad to have to sell a house to be able to afford care for a loved one. I wish you strength and lots of love during the transitions ahead.
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Thanks, Brenda!
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Thinking of you, Matt. A touching and beautiful use of your talent and good way to process some of the conflicting feelings. I agree with you — home is where your family is, regardless of place.
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Thank you, Keri. I was surprised at how quickly this poem came together…probably less than an hour.
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As long as you have your memories, you’ll always have a home. That’s why writing is so important! If only more people would realize it.
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True words, Diane!
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Thanks for sharing your poem and your thoughts about your parents transition. Such a hard time as our parents age.
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It is, Penny – my father told me he had never anticipated this, and I can’t say I ever did, either. But more of us should!
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Lovely poem, Matt. When I think of home I still imagine the house I was raised in, that my parents left almost 35 years ago. It is more vivid in my mind than any of the homes I’ve lived in since, including the one we raised our kids in and still live in. There’s something about a childhood home that doesn’t leave you.
Best of luck to your parents and you with the tough decisions ahead.
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Thank you, Buffy!
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