my father's house bears change
these days
the voices bouncing
off the walls
are not those of my family
but
of strangers
taking the space
i once knew so well
they speak with West Virginia accents
strangely
and treat me as a stranger
there are few things left
in my father's house
to remind me of familial love
to comfort me in shared history
something has been transplanted
and another thing supplanted
my father's house which
once was also mine
is no longer even
my father's house.
douglas brent smith
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