Home   Home

The Cubby Hole Room

by Maureen Glaude


This house has a secret escape
tucked away
full of all the atmosphere
of an old tree fort
or an attic loft
but found on the main level
easily accessed
once discovered
but you tend to bang your head
if you forget to stoop a bit
there's no light fixture wired in its ceiling
so a flashlight, or snakelight's recommended
to carry in with you

the contractor added the space-saver
roomy enough to be a small annex
to the renovation designs
when the second story was added
to the forty-odd year-old bungalow

some call it the stairway room

it has a little door
inside, the unit's L-shaped
has a new hardwood floor
not marred like some strips
of the main traffic rooms'
cause it doesn't get much wear

within it are stored the bric-a-brac
of seasonal paraphernalia
hanging skeletons, plastic pumpkins,
Christmas tree skirt and stands
wrapping paper and lightbulbs
general mix and match
the wrapped piece of plywood
that the Christmas tree rests on
and before that, the real pumpkin
to go into the window

tucked in the aisle, there's even a bag
from a big party years ago
St.Pat's decorations
bright green leprechauns with pipes

and sometimes if you're in there
you can hear thumps, scratches and scurries
threatening overhead
or rushing across planks
mice, ghosts, or burglars, you say?

no, just the dog, cat or fellow humans
making their ways upstairs
or down
stomping over you

the best perk of this room?
it's better than the bath
or the old cottage outhouse
once you go in to work or snoop
or rearrange
it's like you've landed in another world
a sort of C.S. Lewis Wardrobe land
and all the people in your house
quite lose track of you
for a few moments you've gone AWOL
you may be tempted to stretch the stay
feigning no summons heard or questions asked
from there

in the room called
the cubby hole

10/28/2001

Posted on 11/05/2003
Copyright © 2025 Maureen Glaude

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Glenn Currier on 11/06/03 at 02:22 PM

Dear AWOL, what an evocative picture you paint. Gees... I was in that little space with you... in the midst of memories and the implied invitation to be in the now, in the moment, away from the busyness of life. The narrative form of the poem flows so nicely and gives me permission to write such a poem myself. Thanks, Maureen.

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/08/03 at 01:54 PM

Yes indeed. Everyone needs an escape such as this from time to time. I may not have a cubby hole room, but I suppose my basement acts in the same manner, stocked with its own kinds of memorabelia.

Posted by Charles E Minshall on 11/12/03 at 05:23 AM

Great poem Mo. It sounds like our two level head banging attic....Charlie

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2025 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)