The House on Riverdale Street

Dear Fleming Family,

It was the year of 2007,

The 3 of you moved into my retangular, wooden being

Boxes touched my hard wood floors and soft carpet,

Your feet climbed up my red, brick steps; 

You were unpacking your belongings. 

Dolls, jewelry, clothes, sofas, VCR's, and handy tools,

You put them in my rooms.

After night fell, you laid down, as you unpacked all day. 

Yet, your eyes were wide awake. 

Your bodies jumped at every sound, in the unfamiliar darkness.

A few days after the move, New years came 

Other families visited, touching my designs in awe 

They filled their glasses with white wine and grape.

It was the year of  2008, 

You spent days together yet had days of sorrow.

The day birthday parties were thrown, 

The day a cat was brought in to live with you, 

The day laughter was heard throughout the halls, 

The day the real estate market crashed,

The day you had to downsize, 

The day other families visited, touching my designs in sadness,

And the day they filled thier glasses with white wine and tears. 

It was the year of 2009, 

The 3 of you moved out of my rectangular, wooden being 

Boxes touched my hard wood floors and soft carpet, 

Your feet climbed down my red, brick steps; 

You were packing your belongings.

Dolls, jewelry, clothes, sofas, DVD's, and handy tools 

You took them out of my rooms. 

After night fell,  you laid down, after packing all day. 

Yet, your eyes were wide awake, in the familiar darkness.

A few days after packing, you waved goodbye 

Then another family came in

To start thier life.

Sincerely,

The House on Riverdale Street