Tuesday, September 11, 2007

imaginary estate

If you want to sell your house, they say,
make it look like you don’t live there.
People can't imagine themselves living
in the space if you are still present.
I don’t know how to disappear, I say.
I can’t erase myself as I leave every day.
How can I leave this house to someone
without imagination enough to see it?
Just three years shy of one hundred,
our house stands on stones and stories;
it can’t be a blank slate anymore than
we can act like we don’t live here.
Our laughter and longing have colored
the walls and settled into the carpet.
Our feet have worn down the stairs;
our hands have fixed what we have broken.
Real estate is measured in square feet;
the imaginary estate belongs to those
who can see themselves sharing space
with all who helped build their home.

Peace,
Milton

11 comments:

Jo said...

I enjoyed reading. I particularly liked this:

Our laughter and longing have colored
the walls and settled into the carpet

Plain Foolish said...

I loved this.

A couple years ago, when we were looking around to try to find our starter home, I wrote about looking at houses that smelled of new paint and cinnamon, because all the walls had been painted cream and someone had boiled cinnamon sticks to make it "smell like a home". Drove me nuts.

And I still live in an apartment where the hall smells like a home - Old Bay when the neighbors have crab, and curry most days, and pizza and fried chicken in the elevator...

Tee/Tracy said...

Milton, I have been through "staging" a home TWICE and I really hated it. It feels sad to sit around in a bland "model" house for months waiting for it to sell - never being comfortable or at home.

Your prose is BEAUTIFUL.

Anonymous said...

I love this line "our house stands on stones and stories" - I don't own a home, but I have a table that has been host to countless conversations, struggles, joys, tears, boredom . . .

Nice to meet you at Writer's Island.

Clare said...

I really like this! It sounds like your home has incredible energy in it and lots of love. I love the line "How can I leave this house to someone/ without imagination enough to see it?" Right on. Let them look somewhere else. And I love the distinction you made between real estate and the imaginary estate.
:)

Anonymous said...

just moved and it never felt quite right running out so they wouldnt have to see people lived there, then again maybe it was cause i didnt want to leave, and still wish we hadnt. beautifully written tho, good luck with your house and wherever your journeys take you.

Tumblewords: said...

Life seems to have taken on the category of 'invisible'. This post is delightful, full of fun, wisdom, provocative from start to finish.

Real Live Preacher said...

Amen. I was just watching some show about how to sell your home and you're right. people try to make them like show homes.

oh well.

Hey, you're living in an old home again? I remember the row house in Boston, of course. What personality that home had!

don't eat alone said...

We are. Our house was built in 1910, one of the oldest homes in this neighborhood, probably as a summer place for someone. It's a great old place.

Peace
Milton

Rob Kistner said...

Great take on the prompt Milton. I especially liked:

"Our laughter and longing have colored the walls and settled into the carpet."

What a great image!

Glad you found the island!

redbarn said...

Written as only someone who values the spirit of a home and who has a home for sale! And as someone who presently also has a home for sale I especially appreciate the line, How can I leave this house to someone
without imagination enough to see it?

Somtimes, before a showing, I intentionally leave something in the house just so the prospective buyer knows that real people with real lives live in this home.
Thank you!