The Move

Xylene, Toluene, trichloroethylene,

The smell,

Prior paint peeled away and fell.

All off-white, only ever warmer; morning sunlight in the east windows

1887, a ship-builder discussed between three widows,

That line there, fixed up by The Man, too

Them floorboards wouldn’t look as good as The Man could do.

Where did he go? One asked inside of the plain room,

Outside the boundaries of Friendship, Blue Hill, and Tenants too.

Well, I think my boy here likes the stories, he enjoys sitting in the green room learning.

Glass walls, with a ceiling two panes thin, with columns to the kitchen where a coon cat was coiled in.

So, how do you like it here? Two-thousand square-feet and high ceilings…

I really like the new furnace and new electrical, it’s all dialed in.

The hill, too, not obvious to the eye from the roadside

Yes, I always loved how long and hidden the driveway is,

With rose bushes lining the pavement when you come in.

Metal roof encasing white panels on all sides, with vines stretching from the exposed foundation to the neighboring lines.

What do you think?

She looked at her boy and smiled,

We’ll take it.