The ends don’t meet in the middle with the tax man tugging on one side and the kids jumping rope with the other. Heck, Baby gnaws the low hanging fray.
Honey, I want to stay. In this house of first steps and my Mama’s last Christmas. I’d miss the ghosts of arguments and making grace.
I’d miss wall cracks we painted gold together while we talked of strength in broken places, the music of our foundation sinking into clay on rainy days.
I want to watch my perennials bloom until the lilac blocks our neighbor’s view and we can only scandalize the stars. But the rows we’ve raised and planted
year after year will grow wherever we are and my home is the steady drum beneath the rise and fall of my dreams on your chest. That’s enough for me.
Cambra Koczkur is a visual artist, teacher, and mother of two young children. She writes most often about her family and issues of social and societal justice. Her work has most recently been seen in Rattle’s Poets Respond.