arts & leisure

by carolinenoelle

home is where the time is

in lepoard-print journals and crushed shoeboxes

photographs with orange spots (water damage from the flood)

I smooth the creases and my father says, “I don’t remember that.”

or, “were we on vacation?”

.

home is where the Times is.

pieces of yesterday, scattered sections of weeks ago–

a slice of October still sits in the living room.

seasoned with eraser crumbs (crossword abandoned.)

.

I read the Sunday Styles

in my church clothes (jeans are O.K.)

and later with my mother under the Costco blanket.

.

We forget the wine in the freezer

Accidentally preserving something that improves with age.

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