House of Memories

On the outskirts of a big city
Lies a house, a house of memories.
Whose walls are laden heavily
Of the life and times of years long since past.

One wall holds pictures, another one baskets,
While still more walls tell tales of culture and diversity.
An old grandfather clock still tells the time
To a living room just as old and familiar.

Another wall in the musical room
Holds instruments, long since retired from use.
An old piano, a trumpet, a violin and a bugle
Tell the story of an old woman who misses her children.

She fixes me dinner in her timeless kitchen,
And sits down with me to talk.
And passes on to me her countless, priceless memories,
Of things only she now knows.

Before I return to my own life, I take a walk
Through this old, familiar house I've known for so long.
And I wonder to myself if I'll have any memories
To hang upon these beautiful walls.

- Matt Kellner, Thanksgiving 1998