Bent and Almost Broken

As I swept and polished the wood floors in the living room this morning, I noticed no two planks were alike and some showed a great deal of wear. There is a dark stain smack-dab in the middle of the room. One board near the piano sings to me every time I step on it. All of these imperfections and signs of age are a large piece of what pushed me to select this home. It has character, has withstood the test of time, and parts of it are bent and almost broken. This house is me. Still standing despite set-backs, loss, and a profession wrought with stress. I am the 1938 Cape Cod on Greenbrier.

Gray Morning on Greenbrier

The Portsmouth city truck sits in the intersection.
A gray day, cat in my lap and one on the windowsill
Saturday. Weekends after Christmas are filled with
boxes, bows, bills, and a rain chilled and served by a
sloppy waitress. Cars maneuver around the city truck,
a truck vested with orange cones and flickering caution
lights. The old maid dog wanders into my office, knocks
over my school bag.Circles and spoons against my feet.
A truck, two cats, a dog, and spilled school work. All
vehicles. Destination unknown.