A House Just Like His Mother's Poem by Gregory Orr
A House Just Like His Mother's
A house just like his mother's,
But made of words.
Everything he could remember
Inside it:
Parrots and a bowl
Of peaches, and the bright rug
His grandmother wove.
Shadows also—mysteries
And secrets.
Corridors
Only ghosts patrol.
And did I mention
Strawberry jam and toast?
Did I mention
That everyone he loved
Lives there now,
In that poem
He called "My Mother's House?"
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4/24/2024 1:51:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
