the place they called home first

Concrete floors painted with glossy black paint,

hidden cracks from flood damage

that occurred when her oldest was in high school.


Showroom windows, from floor to ceiling exposing the busy street 

filled with untouchable cars, folks waiting for their bus- transients.

Two whitewashed walls and two opposing accent walls: 

one bright and rich with dusty sun-colored flowers on a black background

the other, a mural of Detroit's Eastside.


Merchandise placed perfectly, making you think, "I want that;"

shelves filled with fragments of fabric 

from France, Kenya and India.

An eclectic mix of unpriced housewares:

out of place fairy sculptures, sturdy congress desks, freshly reupholstered art chairs.


Amongst the glamour lay screws, sanders, paintbrushes and

a cashbox on the tall, black desk,

it’s almost always empty


All curated, created, or forgotten 

by the ones who tried to save something 

for themselves

in the place they called home first.