First House on the Left

I still hear my mom’s voice

giving the directions—

“Go west 2 miles after the blinking light,

then turn north on 179^th Avenue…“

the directions to the land we ran on

playing cops n’ robbers, hide n’ seek,

directions to the trees that shape the winding paths

we once spent weeks constructing,

directions to the gravel we rode our bikes on

racing or tracing figure eights,

directions to the house that raised six kids

with Walker after church and couch cushion forts,

to the barn that sheltered us from the rain

as we rope swung in the straw and hay,

to the cards we lost track of time with

playing Peanuts, Merry Widow, and Whist,

the directions to home—

“…go over the railroad tracks and

we’re the first house on the left.”