TheBanyanTree: Poem: The Little House

[Linda DeMerle]

The Little House


The little house was built 
when we were small
5 rooms on a cement slab and 
still stands looking mostly different except 
for that one spot with my back to the kitchen looking 
through the wrought iron arch into the living room at 
the wall of panelling my mother’d been so proud of 
the house now empty, the walls now bare, the people now 
buried and a bubble of emotion burst upward in my chest 
exploding in my throat, stinging, as I felt Home, the feeling of 
Home bringing with it the finality of leaving it for the last time
Where did our life together go?



LL DeMerle
6-10-16