Two Story Homes

I used to live in the attic.

Where it's small, quiet, and still

Where you escape from the rest of the household and the outside world

Where the air gets stifling in the summer, and there's little warmth in the winter

Where the stairs keep others at a distance

Where you're held up high, yet feel out of reach

Where the toys and books disappear when no one can find them downstairs

Where they have to call you out to come eat, drink, groom, live

Where the only walls are your imagination

Where you realize you're lonely on your own

Where the only way out is to bring yourself back down to everyone's level

I now live in a house.

Where there is only one floor for everybody

Where the layout is a circle, better for chasing each other around

Where the tree shades us in the summer and the fireplaces warms us in the winter

Where there's a bed big enough for everybody and I never sleep alone

Where our neighbor's yard connects to ours so we can chat over fences

Where our childhood toys and books sit side-by-side for sharing

Where I get up each day to eat, drink, groom, live

Where the only limits are our budget

Where we face everything together

Where the only way we'd ever move out is over our retired dead bodies

And where there is no more space for attics.