Tears fall on my boxes

Arguments echo in the hall

My feet drag on the mauve-carpeted steps

And my daughter asks, "Why?"

Ten years of memories

Packed away like silent cries

The van is full as we leave the old

Unpacking in cramped rooms

Tears fall on my boxes

And the memories scream in the night

And my daughter asks, "Why?"

We traded the new for the old

But the old was new

The new is old, small, less -- home.

Railroad tracks are our view

From the tiny porch, front or back

From the duplex in our time of lack

Tears fall on my boxes

Memories buried in the garbage sack.

1994