.
The boundaries which divide life from death
are at best shadowy and vague.
Who shall say where one ends,
and the other begins?
Edgar Alan Poe
.
.
.
This is the door knob from a little house I grew up in…
I remember this doorknob
.
.
.
I was in first grade when I lived in this house
I lived with my ‘real’ mother and my two sisters, and my half sister
I say real mother because I was later adopted to someone else
I was the youngest
I recently went to see if this house still exsisted
It did, but it had burnt down
So many memories came to me standing in that yard
Looking in the back yard and the alley
.
.
.
.
.
.
It had had; what seemed to me, as a child, a big fishbowl window… its hard to see it now
We were very poor and my mother couldn’t take care of us…
I remember trying to go to school without any underwear on, because I couldn’t find any.
Somehow my mother knew as I tried to leave the house, she asked me…
I cant remember what happened after that, did we find some?
.
.
.
.
.
.
I remember her digging a quarter out of my throat as I stood on this counter top
I had tried to hide the money in my mouth to buy candy but I choked on it.
She kept change in a jar in the cupboard. I guess she saved me.
.
.
.
.
.
.
We lived across the street from a huge house that looked down us in a majestic sort of way
We loved that house it was beautiful and magical to us
We were the peasants , they were the royalty…
That house is still there
It was a different lifetime…