why all the quiet or an ode to the house

goodbye sweet home!
goodbye old canterbury road,
and the green grass across it -
farewell icing cake ceilings,
and strangely hypnotising carpet,
goodbye early morning tip-toeing to the toilet outside,
to the oven that I was once scared to light
and then found myself quite in love,
to the gracious garden,
and spontaneous pumpkins,
feeling around for the light switch in the long dark hallway,
the flood of light through our windows,
and soft fluttering curtains -
goodbye blanket forts
and picnics under the clothes line,
farwell steep hill from the train station
and high-pitched singing neighbours -
I wish I could have had you visit me then,
and now
after the great move
(and tears and spine twisting)
I am back in Arncliffe town.
In my old childhood room,
but this time with a husband
and a museum-worthy collection of oddball things.
It is a little bit unusual,
and I'm feeling worn to the bone -
and crushed between nostalgia for what has been
and a thunder of excitement for what is ahead -
but good, its all so good.