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The Big House In Erie (1973) A Poem (read 114 times) ... or go back

I was invited to my boss’ house I was young so young back then, Perhaps twenty-five; l lived in Erie, Pennsylvania, 1973

I hung around with his nephews And when I saw his big house, it Somewhat startled me: made of:

Red-brick, smoothly mortared

In-between: a few chimneys on Each side of the house, Victorian; It was a big, a huge house—windows Everywhere: all around, up, down;

To a poor kid like me, my eyes Were mortified, they were shaken: (Hands fidgeting, legs weakening)—

I had to catch my breath.

When I walked inside, my boss was Surprise, yet greeted me well, cheerful

I think he noticed I felt a bit

Uncomfortable (I was brought up In an extended family where two bedrooms Fitted four families); so, I smiled the best

I could, looking about the house

It was to me: Buckingham Palace.

When I was fifty-five Years old, yes, a quarter century plus, had Passed, I owned several big houses, one Bigger than his;

And never did I once forget that big house,

In Erie.

Note from the Author: While locked out of my house today, sitting in my car, in my garage, having two hours to throw to the wind until I have to pick up my wife, this big old house in Erie come to mind ((9:10 PM)) 2/23/2006. #1244

Dennis Siluk - EzineArticles Expert Author

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