Come Now, The Home
Alone at a window she barely knows
In a chair that does not fit her fanny
A view of a yard that is not her own
Askew at an angle through tears
Little tornadoes of snow climb up yon’ hill
Frozen drifts chill the old heart of granny
First night in the home, feels like jail
On the other hand, she’s keen to let something go
What could it be, it’s been nagging for a long time now
Finally she can sigh like an old flat tire coming to the end of its ride
Now there is less of everything
All gone in this forlorn forecourt of a motel
Turned into an old folk’s home out on the highway
All grown up and gone away
It’s only to stay now, quiet, and let it all pass out of existence
Whatever will come, come now
7 thoughts on "Come Now, The Home"
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Beautifully written, Charles. Know this moment all too well … “sighing like an old flat tire coming to the end of its ride” is perfect.
Thanks Bill, that line I’m glad you noticed. It’s one of those that I didn’t know its value until I wrote it down and saw it. The forlorn forecourt of the old folks home was another where I just felt like a conduit.
First stanza engages reader to read on.
Know this so well. So sad, so true.
Very beautiful. Life is so much about accepting change, saying goodbye. This one brought tears. Yet, it is about acceptance. There is peace in just letting it be.
So true Nita Marie. I was so glad when the poem wouldn’t let her accept it as meaningless
Nicely framed – Resigned acceptance. Something many of us have experienced with our older relatives, but you captured it and made it somehow beautiful.