The Tiny House

My grandma’s house, circa 1955.

The tiny house my grandma lived in

I can still recall —

Of course, with photographs

It helps the case

 

But I recall the smell

Just like the powder that she used

That gathered in the cracks

Upon her face

 

The olden books than lined the shelves

And all those grandma pillows

That didn’t seem that practical

To me

 

But how I loved the place

The clothes on clotheslines in the back

That still blow on

In loving

Memory

 

Circa 1955.
Circa 1955.

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

3 thoughts on “The Tiny House”

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