Student Publishing Program ::

Betsy Day

Grandparents' House

I've been in this small house before, here,
But many, many years ago.
I still remember the little rooms,
The quaint adornments,
The slight smells,
And the quiet sounds.

There's the carved woman,
The one I hid from in fright.
Now sitting much higher, no longer in my reach,
No longer in my fears.

And the garden behind the table.
The branches enveloping happiness,
As we sat around eating,
Our masks of smiles and words of love,
Emerging from the crisp green leaves and rainbow petals.

Then I turn and see the couch.
It's the first time I've glimpsed at it,
Since the day when I curled up on top,
As they had fought,
But many, many years ago.
And although it was he who hit him,
It was us who had to leave.

And now,
After many, many years,
I walk again in this house.
The divorce has happened,
He should be hated.
Yet, there was nothing bad said as
We looked through the old wedding pictures.
Although there are millions of words against her,
And even him,
The people who created the granddaughter
They say they are so proud of.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]