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.