My Place
A 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.
It is crumbling now, perhaps
to tumble down into the broad
Puyallup Valley, stopping by
to visit Western Washington State Fair
if anyone is there, continue
down the River to the Puget Sound.
That's where we'd 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 that of yore had been.
The Point Defiance Park and Zoo
remind me still that it’s okay
to stand defying all who come
to visit my old house... then say,
"Come in."
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 dark or precious thing it hid…
long-since forgotten, now recalled
in tears it daubs, if awkwardly
as quickly as it can.
Whatever hinges that can move
at all, now creak, protesting
every opening, though welcoming
each guest – a wink where once
a smile lit up some 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