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
in the place they called home first.