Gone

my grandparents house
still exists.

in the drawers in the bedroom
upstairs
facing out toward the street
my pop's impeccably
folded clothes

his musty forever smell

the orange carpets
that quiet the stairs
remain there

the railing that shook
but never failed.

the mirror along the living room
wall
reflecting the circle coffee table
the two lounge chairs

the kitchen directly behind

the space between the oven
and cabinets still slim
enough for only a single
body to pass

to the basement steps
just and inch or two
too short

and noticeable

the exposed basement ceiling
the sound of my nana
walking slowly upstairs

heat from the oven working
its way though the floor

she is there missing my
pop

she is there being alone

they are there at the table sitting
at each end

my nana is placing my brother
in his high chair

my pop is feigning disgust
over my sister's laughter

my grandparents house is
still exists.

my grandparents house is
still there.