The old bones of the house are no longer exposed
Warmed by the flesh of insulation, the studs stand strong
And ready for a new winter, new nails to hold yet another
Family portrait on the skin of their walls. They are 112 years young.
The wires have been run, these arteries and veins of the house
Silently hum within. Now there is light. Receptacles await
The prongs of television, computer, stove, refrigerator.
Soon there will be music streaming through speakers.
Now that the drywall is hung, the old place is looking new.
Now that the drywall is hung, the old place is looking new.
New windows and new doors, new lights, and new walls.
New life. A once-cared-for home had slumped into disrepair,
At the hands of neglect, disregard, and abuse.
Soon, water and air will flow through pipes and ducts
Bringing sustenance and comfort those bodies
Residing inside. Thirst will be quenched,
Hearts will be warmed, lives will be lived.
Soon the walls be sanded and smoothed,
Primed for the next reincarnation. What colors
Will be painted? Something light, something bright,
Something that radiates life. The old bones of the house
Are no longer exposed, but still they stand strong,
Ready for the next family to call this place Home.
Soon, water and air will flow through pipes and ducts
Bringing sustenance and comfort those bodies
Residing inside. Thirst will be quenched,
Hearts will be warmed, lives will be lived.
Soon the walls be sanded and smoothed,
Primed for the next reincarnation. What colors
Will be painted? Something light, something bright,
Something that radiates life. The old bones of the house
Are no longer exposed, but still they stand strong,
Ready for the next family to call this place Home.
