Poem: Moving On / by Heather Taylor

Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poem by Heather Taylor

Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poem by Heather Taylor

Just yesterday it was filled with voices:
A warm laugh, a baby’s first cry,
a mother mourning a first born
left home for his own happy marriage.

As the years had rolled on top of each other,
the weeks of making pickles and jams
absorbed in the walls; became a fond memory
as drives to shopping mall grocery stores took over.

The day oilmen struck gold on the families land,
Mom & dad breathed out dreams of even streets into air,
fantasy pavements that ran past neighbour houses
instead of grass-grown paths to endless fields.

It took barely a day to pack up heirlooms
and quilts to cram back car windows
as the front door waved goodbye in the wind,
work boots left behind in pursuit of skyscrapers.