For twenty years, this room held our lives
together,
swirl of lilacs
purple,
lavender,
white.

Bright when new, the paper aged
and minute cracks appeared
at the
corners.

Years gathered like cobwebs – small,
gauze-like, almost pretty
then they grew bolder,
becoming gray almost black
hanging
rope-like and heavy.

When we were as new as the paper
the walls were swept
clean
with childlike
eagerness but now
it’s too much,
too hard, too easy
tonot
see.

Once shingles lifted
during a storm,
rainwater seeped in,
leaving
the wall cracked,
discolored,
browning
at the edges.

A foundation shift puckered corners
papersplit
rolled
outward
as fissures jagged
across the walls.

I think about a change -
stripping off
the old
spackling cracks,
hanging new paper -
maybe something in yellow
or green. But
it's a lot of work
and
I'm too tired.