A full house is a home,
it has a rhythm and beat of life,
a pulse, it sings a song.
An empty house is clean, utilitarian,
a machine for living in.
then just as you turn to leave --
a widening shaft of sunlight illuminates
a corner and you remember that's where
the sewing machine stood,
and the negative shadow shapes
on the wall were
positive family portraits,
and on the refrigerator
was childrens art,
a glorious gallery lyric
celebrating life.
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