Apartment #8
Thank you for the memories.
I close your door for the final time.
sit outside on the porch for my last
20-minute thinking session, misty-eyed.
I didn’t think that I’d miss your four walls.
I knew moving was the right choice:
two months to replace a refrigerator
purchased at a company
that went out of business
six years ago?
It finally died.
If maintenance couldn’t fix
something like that what
happened in emergencies like
leaking roofs?
It was time to move and reunite
with my dogs, the ones I had
to leave with mom
when the pandemic started,
she was medically quarantined.
However, I can’t deny the role
you played in my life:
you kept my husband’s
belongings and acted as
a man cave for over a decade
You were my safe place after
the car accident.
You were where we spent our first
10 months of marriage and where
we made the marriage official.
Your porches held many of my
writing moments as well providing
my reading zone as I tore through books.
I’m grateful for the year we had
together. I hope
your next tenants
will be gentle to you.
