The Prettiest House on Jutland Road | by A'Ja Lyons

Neighbors only saw the ivy plants,
manicured lawn, and white ash tree
I wonder if pink siding was all the rage
in 1960 when the house was built
It hadn’t been updated since

My grandparents bought it
I wonder why she left him but
stayed there where he hit her
likely because it was her home,
her daughter’s home/my mother’s home,
my childhood home
The biggest and prettiest anyone
in our family ever owned

The house was one of the few with a carport
but the only one with burglar bars
I read my mother’s diaries, she didn’t get
to go out or too far often, either
I wonder if she ever tried to leave

My mother never left, big as her light was
it became dimmed by the darkness inside
I don’t wonder why she was heavy (like me)
Enough to eat from a kitchen only big enough
for one cook, to fill a void created by cruel tongue

I wonder if my mother ever resisted
and received a heavy hand or belt
or if tongue lashings were tough
enough to make her comply
The house looked lovely yet my grandmother never
repaired the developing foundation issue

The roof caved in and knocked my mother down to the vinyl floor.

Stress on her heart blocked blood flow
Six feet deep in dirt was her only resting place
The only stillness in the dust
lining bookshelves and desk drawers
documents unseen in decades
Traps restricted rodent reproduction
The only growth the mold on the air vents

The pink doghouse in the backyard
matched the siding
My first dog was a Chow Chow
she ran away before I did

A'Ja Lyons is a contributing editor at Medusa Rising.