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.”