Value of Home

Value of Home

Real Estate agent started to spin out some mighty
big dollars for my home.
I felt like I had won the lottery!

“That much?”

“And you’d never need to work again.
This is Fat City, boy.”

“What will happen to my home and this land?”

“Rip down the old shack! The future is
condominiums!” The words rolled
easily off his tongue. “But of course we would
make it classy to optimize the aesthetic value.” he said with a bright smile.

“Optimize the aesthetic value? What the hell does that mean?”

“Boy, that means lots of green backs.” he said while pushing a contract
and a pen forward.
“Make your dream come true and sign on the line!”

I looked out at the woods, this tiny corner of heaven--
the pastures of cowslip, clover, and rye by the pond’s edge; the
way that sun light mirrors the hemlocks in the pond; the blissful
thrill as the wind brushes across the tree tops.

I knew the worth and pushed the paper back to him.

“Double!” he shouted.

“No. More worth and value to this land,
than even you can begin to measure.” I finally said.

namaya@vermontpoet.com www.vermontpoet.com
from the new collection: BLUE HERON POND: LOVE SONG FOR THE EARTH