Tuesday, December 20, 2005

me play all day and me work all night

scarleht swept the kitchen floor with my mother this evening. lyli wore a dastardly pink collared button-up tee. i drank some moosedrool and pored over old books when i wasn't reading goodnight moon for the twenty-thousandth time.

time here at "home" is strange. my folks work most of the time and my mother is obsessive compulsive enough to waste what little time she has cleaning instead of hanging out with her grandchildren. my father is tired and detached. one of my dogs is dead and my old grey cat is on her last leg. it is as if the sand inside the hour glass has eaten away at the mummified memories I left here entombed in a self i thought i past.

a tiny cry from the basement rouses me from reminiscing. that room down there filled with the trinkets i infused with meaning once, now less. i thought that maybe i could escape the cliche, you can never go home, but it seems that even i must fall victim to time's ambiguities. i, who used to scoff at schedules, am now wrapped tight amidst them.

like a pair of pancakes i flip my girls and they fall back to sleep. two wrinkles ironed out in the clothing of this night.


Libbers said...

I too thought i could pack up my family and head home for awhile. But when I got here i found that it wasn't my home anymore but someone elses and I was just a visitor

Amos said...

May your treasures be found growing in the eyes of the future as well as dusted and charming or melancholy on the shelves cataloging the past, friend.