My Grandparents’ Old Home

I knew the halls and rooms like my own

But it was a maze I could still get lost in

Always something new to discover

Sometimes when no one was looking

A drawer full of old coins

Or old military buttons or pins

The bottom bunk where I would nap after church

The pantry was magical

Filled with sweet treasures

Always my first stop

The home left an indelible mark on my soul

Like the go-kart tracks on my brother’s back



Author: Arsenio Franklin

Writer & depressed house husband.

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