Moving On

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.

Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poem by Heather Taylor