That space between my pierced ears

            Studded with diamonds

            Eclipsed with a modest golden hoop

Sitting just above my sagging double chin

Nested below ever-changing hair color

            Creeping toward gray.

That space where the vacancy shingle

            Hangs for days

            Sometimes weeks or months

            Without a single inquiry

While freshly laundered and pressed sheets lay waiting

            Eager for another patron.

That space in season when the

            Occupancy rate is high

            Bustling with activity

            Clamoring for attention

                        To every need and desire

            Or just to chat about the weather

            Hardly time to keep things tidy.

That space as a repository for countless

            Images, memories, faces, voices, dreams

            Stored, preserved within the vault

            Mingling with one-time and frequent visitors alike.

            Happy for reunion, celebration.

            Sad for departures and losses.

That space with a window into the world

            Through lenses fading with time

            Growing thicker and less focused.

That space is my room.

© 2005 Cheryl A. Hemmerle. All rights reserved.