The twittering birds outside in the old gum trees
The worn red brick, layered with moss
The cracks in the wall, the oaken doors
The wisps of dust, floating to the floor.

The bathroom tiles, sandy from years
of wet, warm days by the beach
The rusty garage, sagging under the weight
Of thousands of rotten leaves.

The floor-length mirror by the door
Where you used to admire
Your new outfit, shining
Under the sliver of sun.

Now it is sad and cracked
It’s face dirty with mould.
The sliver of sun is darkening
Making the shadows seem so much bigger.

Just like the floor, which
used to be mopped every day.
Now it is layered with dust.
Grimy and rough and hopeless.

The creaks which used to be monsters
Sneaking towards your bedroom
Are now tired, speaking
Of old bones and bad timber.

The sea breeze that used
to be so refreshing and sweet
Now makes you shiver
In the dreary air.

The garden, once vibrant
with the colours of hundreds
of beautiful flowers
Is overgrown, weeds eating up the space.

The shed is filled with empty promises
The bedroom with hard pillows
The attic is darker, yet less scary
It is filled with memories from a time that has gone.

Your childhood belongs here,
To the garden and the bedrooms
The attic and the kitchen
The bathroom and the games you played.

Yet, as you take up your walking stick
Your suitcase, packed with photos,
As you walk down the driveway
Passing the ‘FOR SALE’ sign
As you shuffle into the car
That awaits you
Greeting your sister,
Her face lined and worn as yours
As you share stories of days gone
You realise
That the house, your home
The spirit of your childhood
Is in your mind,
Your heart
Your family
Your sister’s smile
Your dog’s grave
The beach down the way
They all hold memories,

Dancing to the beat in your heart.