Who puts a fireplace in the basement? — #NaPoWriMo Day 2

How can a memory be trusted?
No matter — it’s what we have.

A single bulb, halfway down dark
stairs. Retrieving an action figure

sent in an adventure — down the
laundry chute. My, how they built

a house in New England then. The
fireplace was painted white — bricks

surrounding it. What if Santa is
down there?” The imagination of

a child is priceless. Uncle Phil’s
comic collection lived down there,

as did another couch — maybe?
Above it all was the loving embrace

of beloved grandparents, a sink full
of lobster, mother’s childhood room.


Previous post
Playlist — #NaPoWriMo Day One There are lyrics I would steal – to reach back and remember the way things felt. To dance or to laugh. To fight. Tiny doorways to what might be
Next post
Still life — #NaPoWriMo Day 3 Called to repent, this Malcontent; the serpent Bent apart the stars – Far away — to quicken The silkened — abrupt Colors, the lovers, stoking A