The Children Have Gone Home

Everywhere are little things;
Broken crayons, stiffened paintbrushes,
coats of glue on the table.
Pink princesses and odd shaped horses
taped to doors, windows.
Papers scribbled black, blue or brown,
Just a blob of color but…hello…
Now the children have gone home.

Bits of yarn, yellow and frayed
Wanted to be on a doll’s head but abandoned for
some noisy distraction on television.
Train tracks scattered under the dining table
and at the bottom of the stairs,
A once lost locomotive, a well worn caboose,
Easy to trip on but…hello…
Now the children have gone home.

Brushes and combs with goo and sprays;
ribbons and elastic ties in a maze;
Basket upended with bottles and pots;
bathmat a dampened mess on the floor.
Toilet lid up, then down, then up again;
Doors slammed, drawers crammed,
Streaks on the once spotless mirror but…hello…
Now the children have left; where have they gone?

Petals of flowers dried on the rail;
A red bow tied on the dog’s tail;
The cat finding refuge under the bed;
water bowls tipped and spilled on the kitchen floor.
The fridge door left open again and again;
Piles of towels and clothes, dirty or clean;
Bees left buzzing in jelly jars but…hello…
Now the children have gone home.

Rusted sleds in the basement;
Mittens with moth holes;
Jackets hung in the back of the closet,
Forgotten there by glistening boys and girls.
Trikes and bikes with hardened flats;
Pogo sticks and hula hoops.
Shovels and sand pails;
Wooden boats without sails,
Meant to come back to, but…hello…
Now the children have gone home


Yearbooks and primers gather dust.
Hairless dolls not to be tossed;
Comics and photos that won’t be lost.
Boxes dragged out with crumbling toys,
paint dulled and chipped
on trucks and puzzles
For children who gather where children have aged.
Don’t miss a moment or wish they’d be still because now…
Hello…
The children have gone home.

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