Family Home

Joanna Magill

I step gingerly over the threshold.

Everything is so much smaller somehow.
I feel as though I may burst through
And shatter all the windows. 

Yet I am intimately aware that I am minuscule when
My brothers tower over me like giants. 
Their words are weighted with years of wisdom- 
Years that I have missed. 

And my parents, who once held the world
Are so very human
And I am endlessly full of love for them. 

The piano has decayed
Into dust and firewood
And the dog, who regards me as a stranger, 
Stiffens when I draw him close. 

I go to make my home 
In a cup of tea
And as I search the counter for leaves and sugar
A soft voice reminds me:
“We keep them in the cupboard now.”