A little piece of creative writting

My Childhood Home

The perfectly manicured lawn
My mother's aproned dress
The washed laundry flipping in the wind
My puppy yapping, jumping, circling
the flowers in the yard.
My clothes muddy from playing
The spring birds chirps
echoing my happiness.
This is the earliest of my memories
of my childhood home.

When He left
the lawn remained perfect
My mother, disheveled from
lack of sleep
from worry
from pain
Yet the house is always in order
Hot food on the table
My allowance ample
I saw nothing amiss, life went on

When He came back
Mother's dress wrinkled in their embrace
A welcome fit for a king
A homecoming bittersweet and tender
I told Him I missed him
Then I showed him the lawn
The perfectly manicured lawn
Is the latest of my memories.  

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