Bless the DNA in the bones of this house:
\nhair, spit, women\u2019s blood.
\nThe men bled, too:
\nthe carpenter who left his thumb-blood on the pantry wall,
\nthe boy who sliced his cheek as he pretended to shave. <\/p>\n
Bless the produce in the root cellar:
\npotatoes with alien eyeballs sprouting from their skulls,
\ncarrots lying stiff as cadavers in their boxes of dirt.
\nSugar beets fading to the dull maroon of rubies in the raw. <\/p>\n
This six-room house,
\nbless its memories of cooking:
\nspices that simmered in stews and soups –
\ntarragon, curry, cardamom.
\nCorned beef and cabbage steaming on a platter.
\nBok choy sizzing in a wok,
\nand oh,
\nthe oven, the beloved oven,
\nhow it melted chocolate chips into rising cookie dough. <\/p>\n
Bless this house and its memories of sounds:
\nhiss of woolen scarves drying on the radiator,
\nswish of lace doilies brushing against Persian-cat fur,
\nshatter of a milk glass falling from a little girl\u2019s hand.
\nAnd the coital night noises:
\nthe hard, hard breaths, the quaking bedframes. <\/p>\n
Bless this house and its memories of work:
\nthe woman who pummeled bread dough like a welterweight,
\nbiceps straining against her sleeves.
\nThe couple with sandpaper and a bucket of varnish,
\ntheir skin cells buried under layers of polyurethane. <\/p>\n
Bless the moments of anger and hurt:
\nyes, there were affairs and betrayals,
\nthere was gambling and drink.
\nParents who favored the strap. <\/p>\n
Most of all, bless the memories of love:
\nthe sweet swaddling of newborn twins,
\nthe mother who rocked her fevered child to sleep,
\nhow she rocked him and hummed,
\nhow she rocked and she hummed.
\nSiblings who held a blue popsicle against the lips of their dying father. <\/p>\n
And the realtor holding now a bouquet of balloons:
\npraise her for joining this old home to this family of three. <\/p>\n
Bless these new owners cleansing the rooms with sage.
\nPraise the fragrant sticks as they burn.
\nBless these new owners as they take their turn.<\/p>\n
Blessing for an Old Home That Has Just Been Sold Bless the DNA in the bones of this house: hair, spit, women\u2019s blood. The men bled, too: the carpenter who left his thumb-blood on the pantry wall, the boy who sliced his cheek as he pretended to shave. Bless the produce in the root cellar: … Continue reading Ellen LaFleche<\/span>