TOWNHOUSE

What have you seen in your hundred years?
If asked, what would you say,
Of the dozen families that lived in your walls,
Of the hundreds of children at play?
Did the boys slide down the bannister rail,
To a mother’s angry scolding?
How many laughs, and how many tears
Have marked the years unfolding?
Every time a floorboard creaks,
The sound tells a story…
(Rick W. Cotton)