Alexa Indeck

Forgotten

I have been opening your porch door,
For sixteen years
And you have slid it shut,
For eighty-two.

The smell of moth balls
When I enter your home
And the certain way your glossy, light-colored, wooden stairs creek
Feels like a welcoming hello.

When you open the basement door,
The cold, breezy rush
Leads me to your glorious water color paintings,
That whisper peaceful words
That are soothing to a hectic day.

But instead of thanking you
For telling me stories about Charlie the Groundhog,
Helping me with my times tables,
Taking me out for ice cream at Friendly's,
And teaching me how to draw...

I laugh at your jokes,
Smile when you smile,
Laugh when you laugh,
And treasure our time together.




[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2012 EDITION]


Copyright © 2002-2010 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose © 2002-2010 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission.