ode to declerye

here only the trains sound the same,
i miss dancing in the kitchen and singing on the porch,
i miss the jungle tireswing and magnolia turnip riots,
i miss sitting by the woodstove with amiga in my lap,
plants in the pink bathroom, and mirrors on the walls,
i miss pictures with messages of hope and defiance,
the scratchy record player,
tims banjo, jb's guitar, andy's accordion,
suzie's guitar and tj's box of tricks,
i miss the sound of chopping wood, of bike bells, and the slam of the security door
i miss the smells of the kitchen, of coffee and spices and frying things
silly songs, christmas lights and valentines day decorations lingering from last year,
zines in the bathroom and postcards on the wall,
strangers on the couch, and friends on the porch,
i miss the faces of those i've left behind, and loved best,
the kids of memphis.