Leaving the Blue House

We once owned a home. Blue cedar planks with white shutters. The basement was limestone painted a brilliant white. The floor a enameled grey slate. Trees lined the edge of the property that overlooked the sea. We once owned a home that sat on a hill.
Mother forgot her pill.
Father loaded the truck. No more than a half hour fuss. We once owned a home. Now we can see it as we pass. Time has feet that will walk up the stairs. Mother said she no longer cares.

How To Speak

With scissors. With wire and gauze. With pencils. With pen. With anger. With love. With plates. With trees. With guns. With speakers. With lies. With broken ships. With bottles. With time. With a single finger. With a dime.

Bitter Roots

Where the paint begins to dry is where they decided to look.
Behind the refrigerator in the corner that is stained from years of oxidation is where they began the story. Lead written words and lipstick drawings. The stopwatch is running, the chicken is in the oven.
Where should we begin was the first question of the visitors. The next was who should leave first. They grouped around the table during the dead of winter.
One is in the kitchen reading from the wall.
One translates and documents the unfolding story onto a roll of arches rag paper.
After time the translation begins to reveal itself. In time what was lost will begin the new narrative.

Rubber Ducks

The trees have finally reached the second story of the old colonial. Blue crisp skies rustle through the last leaves of October. Lemonade is chilling next to the vodka. The bath is filled with warm water. The house on the hill has black smoke rolling out of the windows.
She left the keys on the mantle.
The car is down the river.
Patches of wire hide beneath the porch.

Snow

When would you like to visit? The pond is frozen.
Christmas trees are cut and being stacked on trucks. Have you listened to the message.
The family is having orange duck. It's ten below zero. When should I expect you?
Grandma can't find the nut cracker and there is a short in the lights that are wrapped around the chimney. Leave the sweater grandpa turned up the heat.

Twine

Where is the kite? Summer breeze makes it's way to the river. The toddler is drawing flowers on paper bags. The railroad is working overtime.
Ants surround the sandwich as the kite crosses the sky.

The basement is cold.

The basement is cold. There is an inch of water waiting to freeze. Baby bunnies are strung up behind the house on the hill. Pain fills the house.
The basement is cold.
Red leaves have turned to brown. Linen and sawdust fills the work rooms. Four families have planned a vacation.
The basement is cold.

Roses are Red

Three houses overlook the Pacific. The cliff falls off from the edge of the lawn to black rocks. Chris has been lost on pch for over an hour.
The party has started without him. Jenny is drinking cranberry and vodka.
Chris watches the sun dip below the coast and brings his phone to his ear.
His phone rings.
Jenny's phone rings. The ocean slows with the tide change. Air cools with the sun getting dim.
Jenny?
Chris?
I forgot the address.
Where are you?
The phone cuts out. The sun is down.
Jenny finishes her drink and and watches the waves dissipate into the night.

Where the Corners Meet

The paint is intended to seal the cracks and toxins from spreading into the room.
Plastic and tape seal the back rooms.
September breezes push the pollen over the kitchen table.
Two teenagers stand in the front waiting room to see the car pull to the curb. Twigs and knives. Chalk and dimes.
Bottles tilt and are handed around the porch.
Phones spread the stories.
The fire pit is kept burning deep into night.