Brick by Brick

After the storm,

We had to rebuild the house

brick by brick. 

You thought we’d struggle 

but forgot the Sundays

I spent stacking 

shoe boxes 

in a haunted attic, 

above a quiet store.

The ghosts whispered back then, 

they still do now,

only more helpful this time—

look, that one goes there,

yep, see where 

the chair used to rub 

against the wall.

And that one here,

where you stubbed your toe

and hobbled for days, 

until we found out it was broken.

This one goes there,

above the stairs, 

where the light flickers on 

and then off 

for good.