Untouched By Time

Hanging on the mildewed wall
in the kitchen, where the sun
rarely touched, a calender
with the date 1976
printed on the yellow page.
There were dishes put away
in order, spices still on the rack.
The table could use a good wipe down.
Yet it stood firm as ever.
We started toward the living room
but stopped at the doorway
as our gaze met vintage couches
covered with plastic and
smelling of dust.
Stairs leading up seemed misleading.
As if they could transport us
back through time, to the year
we were born.
Strange to see a home
where someone had once lived
now just memories that wasn’t ours.
To see a date untouched by time
although we knew it was incorrect.
Maybe it happened or maybe
it was our imagination
but we still swear 
while we stood in the kitchen
mixing all the spices and baking items
into a huge bowl,
we heard the stairs creak.
Jumping out the back kitchen
window that we had broken
and running toward the street
our hearts racing, we waited.
Time caught up with us again
in the sunlight and we laughed.
Laughed at our own foolishness.
Yet, I still quicken my pace
when I walk past that abandoned house.

donetta sifford 3-13-2014
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