By Deborah Falco, alumna, Long Island Center–Hauppauge Unit
January 12, 2012
No longer is there comfort
In the home I once held dear.
Like a traveler to a new land,
Everything seems strange to me.
Every nook and niche and cranny
Created with such care,
Now loom odd and unfamiliar
And no longer welcome me.
Yet everything remains in place,
Nothing is disturbed.
All the trappings of a lifetime
Are fixed solidly in space.
The china plate collection,
The wedding portrait on the wall
Are opaquely reminiscent
Of a long discarded life.
No tragedy has occurred here,
There was no upheaval to endure.
So I must wonder to myself,
Perhaps it’s me that's changed.