Dad wants to cut the Tappan Zee bridge out of his commute. He finds the perfect ranch-style house for us in Rockland County–same side of the Hudson as his restaurant. I don’t want to leave all my friends behind. And while Dad packs up all of our belongings into boxes, Mom drinks.
the last birdsong heard from
the apple tree
We sell our New City home of over fifteen years so Dad can settle a debt. Our future uncertain, we rent a ranch house in nearby Chestnut Ridge. The stifling heat does not help our estate sale. The wall space behind the paintings lack the yellow tint staining the rest.
the day I cut my last ties
to her dysfunction
Another move–this time to a townhouse in Suffern. Downsizing continues. But nothing stops me from going on a date with my future wife. Not even moving day!
the perils of a bedroom
with a tv
I convince Mira to move into a townhouse six doors down from the one I share with my parents. All of her belongings fit into a box truck. She crosses the Hudson, as I did all those years ago. And like me, she leaves family and friends behind.
darkness before dawn
the summertime noises of
We buy a high ranch in next-door Montebello, the better to use as a “mother-daughter.” Contractors put in a seperate kitchen and full bath. We load up our households and move into the place we now call home.
the grass continues to grow
for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Aflame #writephoto
and dVerse Poets’ Tuesday Poetics: Movement (pubtended by Amaya) The Pub closes soon for this prompt, so join the fun while you can!