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2021.7
February 14, 2019
The boxes are gone now,
All full of clothes,
Trailer full of belongings,
Tables, camo, and bows.
I walk through the house
Moving through the hall,
Down to my room,
To touch the self-painted walls.
As we walk out the house,
He turns and says to me,
"I'll see ya soon,"
Like it'll be next week.
His voice quivers,
But he gives me a hug,
Because no matter where he lives,
He'll never pack up his love.
© Nicole B., Newcastle, WA
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This is a spin off of "Grandma's House" by Kate Coombs. This poem is about the last memory i had of my dad before he left, moving 2021.7 miles away.