I came to broom sweep my big old house today
Before the closing which will happen soon
I cry when I see where my children did play
It’s time to clean for the closings at noon.
The floors in the den are covered with dust
Why is it so hard to sweep clean this room?
The file cabinets now decayed with rust
We never had the right hammer or broom.
The house kept us bonded, committed through time
But the price is right and it’s time to go
I’ll get an apartment, it will be fine.
We have new lives to live, new seeds to sow.
All of us young, we were finding our way
The road is new and I’ll try not to cry.
The road isn’t easy and it’s hard to say
How painful it will be to say goodbye.
Now I must learn how to conquer my fear
We loved this old house and my heart is here.
This poem was originally published in the Myth of the Yellow Kitchen. It’s a reflection on the transition of moving from one home to another.
Rhoada Wald 
Rhoada — I love it. We do leave a part of ourselves in places we’ve spent parts of our lives…I feel that way being back in the building I lived in for so many years in Cambridge. This place will be with me always. Again, if Brookhaven works out, I will be so pleased, for I do love being “home.”
Interesting — when I go through old photos the ones I have taken with just the place, no people, are precious. I see things like the old pencil holder, the familiar book, the familiar lamp, etc — all no longer with me, but still a part of me.
I think you’re leaving on Friday – good timing — as it will be turning cold again…have a wonderful time! Say hi to Judy. See you when you return.
cheers,Prudence >