Arrived 1977, shitty cabinets.
Things happened: tragic, jarring, fun, remarkable.
Arguments the neighborhood ‘didn’t hear.’
Wiffleball games; frog catching; stupid risks; silly lies. Summers.
Guilt and shame, doubt and second guesses. A glass of wine.
What can we ask or answer without sin?
“You gunna miss it?” he asked.
She replied from the edge, “from the clothesline to the corner of Youngs and 17, I thought, ‘this is ours.’”
One house, 5 stories. Countless spinoffs. Merging memories.
The house kept secrets.
I asked you why you jumped. You said to see how it would feel.
Departed 2000, shitty cabinets.