Blue Mountain Arts Poetry Contest

My Family Home
by Holly Henderson

Forty-First
Contest
first Place

I don’t have a childhood home:
a place with marks on the wall
to show how tall I’ve grown.
My bright and shiny memories
of birthdays and holidays
lay scattered atop
a collage of backdrops —
not just time but place:
a different house,
a different state.
My childhood bedroom
didn’t grow along with me,
didn’t change slowly but surely
along with my maturing face.
It was packed up into boxes
and redone over and over.
Each blank wall
a blank slate,
each new school
a new chance
to be someone else.
Easy to do
when no one knows who you are.

Except her.
Except Mom.
She was the frame
to every blank canvas,
reminding me of my shape
as I experimented in wild colors.
In every backdrop,
there she was —
like a search and find:
sometimes farther back,
almost hidden,
other times all I could see.
Her familiar light
illuminating every memory
like a masterpiece in disguise.
I measure my growth against her side.
In her arms now
then up to the hips that bore me.
Hugging tight around her shoulders now,
her head resting on mine.
Taller than she is now,
I peek over her shoulder.
We both look down
at my daughter in her arms.
My daughter
resting peacefully
in my childhood home.

About the Author

Holly Henderson has lived all over the world but currently resides in Central Georgia (the state, not the country). As a writer, her words come in many forms, from poems, short stories, and books to essays and articles. Connect with her on LinkedIn.