My PlaceA place called Yesterday…
where more and more of those
who grew up with me now
have come to live. It’s there
my sturdy house stands proudly still.
My Father spawned it after WWII
of Northwest
Douglas-fir,
much like the tyke he planted
way up on the Heights
called
Roosevelt, some time
near 1930 – looming now
more than 200 feet above the
sidewalk he initialed –
which is crumbling now, perhaps
desiring to roll down into the broad
Puyallup Valley, stopping by
to visit
Western Washington State Fairif anyone is there, then tumble
down the
River to the
Puget Soundwhere we would visit sometimes
on brisk summer days, go through the old
aquarium, which now is gone,
replaced by one that’s beautiful
but not as welcoming
as what once was.
The
Point Defiance Park and Zoo
remind me still that it’s okay
to stand defying all who come
to visit my old house.
Its nails and bolts now 65 years old
hold it together fast. It’s slow
to moan, but does complain
when winter winds blow hard.
It sways, as if reminded
of some precious thing it lost…
long-since forgotten now recalled
in tears it daubs, if awkwardly
as quickly as it can.
Whatever hinges it can move
at all now creak, protesting
every opening, though welcoming
each guest – a wink where once
a smile lit up each room,
now shaded windows let in
little light through pitted panes
that sag, distorting images
of evergreens, whose scents
stretch hard to overpower
the must that age has left.
© MLee Dickens'son 2011