She is smart, say the graded papers spilling
out of her school books. She loves to read,
say the well worn books on the dusty book-
shelf. She also enjoys writing, says the torn
and ragged notebook. But creativity doesn’t
come easy for her, says the forsaken sketch pad.
A baby lives here, says the bathtub full of
bright toys. The family has a passion for music,
says the solitary piano in the room full of guitars.
Many animals are loved at this home, says
the hair-housing heap of blankets on the floor.
She has a happy life, says the camera that has
seen many good times. Yes, she lives for the Lord,
says the rough leather Bible. And many people visit,
says the squeaky front door. But we see less of her
these days, says the old house. Something is happening,
and like a flower in the springtime, she is changing
in many ways.