My Home Poem by r james sterzinger

the land where I lived
and cut my teeth is gone
what memories I had
are between the roots and the dirt.
the hills I ran down are gone
leveled out like my family's
laughter.

the house that slept in
whose windows couldn't keep out
the cold, where I would etch
my name in frost
has been gutted
and there are no drafts

and the memories are all mine
and when I like the house I lived in
has serves out its time
my memories will lay to waste

and that is good
the way it is meant to be