If these walls could talk 
                        to disclose the spirit of this family 
                        memory would weep like mortar
                        holding our heroic moments of existence. 

                        The day we unpacked our possessions 
                        to claim each room our own, planning
                        color schemes and placing trust in home; 
                        the bare floors upheld our dreams
                        that echoed through the halls. 

                        Contentment settled in corners 
                        among stuffed animals and dolls. 
                        It rested upon the windowsill 
                        with the cat, warmed by the sun. 

                        Harmony reigned in a house
                        where daughters sang, once 
                        accompanied by their grandmother
                        at the baby grand.

                        On the edge of night 
                        the future casts a shadow. 
                        Words fill the space between 
                        bliss and pain while we stand
                        in the doorway of our love.


                            (c) Susan Fridkin