by Michael Keshigian

Town of his birth,
he is rushing back
to the house of his infant years,
escaping throngs of cars
and frenzied employees
that clutter city sidewalks,
searching with his headlights bright
for the narrow country roads
that lead to the place
of his grandfather’s voluntary exile.
To the chagrin of co-workers and bosses,
he is consumed, a knight,
galloping backward in time
toward the black and white world
of family history
to save the home
and the barely valuable heirlooms
of his predecessors,
significant only in longevity
and the decades of old fingerprints
that might have survived,
family portraits, antique bedrooms,
the grand piano he never learned
how to play.
Tonight, within the seclusion
of secrets and memories,
he will clean and pamper them,
listen to all their stories,
and accept them again
as house guests,
at least for another lifetime.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

Copyright by Dallas Poets Community. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.