Near the big hill over top,

You could see everything,

The huge shared backyard 

of the apartments lining it,

Where little kids played

and got in trouble for

plucking someone else’s tomatoes,

Where they had their own

little picnics on plastic

tables that were layered with dirt,

Running and jumping all day long,

Then running into the house 

through the sliding door,

Into the tiny apartment 

we called our home,

To the tight living space 

with old couches and a TV

that gave you only 4 channels,

Reminding me of when we

woke up early to watch Power Rangers,

Or those evenings when we watch WQED,

Go into the kitchen to find

where my mom cooks often,

Thinking about the time I

burned my chin on the cookie tray,

Leading to the dining room,

Where we’d hide under the table

when we got in trouble,

Down the hallway to my bedroom,

I shared with my brother,

He usually got the bottom bunk,

I got the top,

Remembering how the light flooded in,

We’d make-believe and play together,

When we got along,

Down further to the master bedroom,

My parents’ room,

Thinking about how I would sleep 

with my mom when my dad went to India,

Too sad to be on my own,

Here, we were close, my family,

Now our house is bigger,

More space to fill and 

be away from each other,

Always busy doing something

somewhere else in the house,

I guess it has something to do

with size, the big things ruin us,

Big houses, stylish cars,

More money, higher positions, 

Latest technology, expensive luxuries,

I would give anything for

it all to go away,

And give me back what used to be,

Back to the tiny apartment 

in Woodhawk Club where we had fun,

When technology wasn’t advanced,

When we had two old, beat-up cars,

When we were minimal and my mom didn’t work,

Everything was simple when 

we didn’t have much but each other