The poetic city: “The Dream House Of My Childhood”

Sep 14, 2020 • Creative Writing

A watercolor from the poet’s childhood home. (Painting by: Jim Blanchard)

“The Dream House Of My Childhood”

In the dream I find myself on the sidewalk

standing before my childhood home.

I hope the new owner will come out

and invite me in for a tour.

I remember how every nook, corner,

and cranny was once filled with meaning.

I wonder how the house will affect me now, fifty years later

and a long way from the luxury in which I was raised.

Two workmen emerge from the front door

pushing a dolly laden with things to be discarded.

I move closer to get a glimpse of the entryway.

I expect to see the sweeping stairwell, the marble floor,

and the crystal chandelier just as I remember them.

Instead I find myself drawn into a large, airy, sunlit space

filled with plants and almost nothing else.

I long to know something about the person

who would choose to live in a place so appealing to me.

Then I hear movement and decide not to intrude.

Quietly slipping away I swallow my frustration

until I wake up to realize that I am the new owner…

The one who made the dream house of my childhood

into a place where I can be truly me.

Reece Burka

9/5/2020

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