about one month ago, Rich noticed this across the street from our house.  He said as long as he has lived here which is nearly all his life, he never seen this before.  Elsie must have carved into wet concrete when things were new. 

ELSIE (a poem…sort of, by me)

There was a little girl called Elsie, she grew up in a 1950’s tract house

With her sister, her mom and dad

They were the original owners of this house when it was new

They had citrus trees in the back and three palm trees in the front

She grew up in this house and when she was still young

She had a baby boy

She named him Joshua

She didn’t mean to make wrong choices

But she did

When her boy was still very young

She accidentally overdosed

Her body was dropped in the front lawn of the house

The house she grew up in

The little boy Joshua lost his mama on that day

Things in that house were not so good

They didn’t mean to be bad

But they were

Many years later

A young couple with two baby boys came along

They bought the old broken house

The house with bad memories

That couple, it’s us

We had another baby in this house

A girl

In this house with bad memories

We have always felt safe

It feels exactly like home

Children have seen

A young woman

In a white dress

In the middle of the night

Standing in our yard

We like to think it’s


Only children can see her

4 thoughts on “elsie

  1. Oh my goodness. I was waiting for you to say it was the house across the way from yours, but its yours. Such a sad story, but a good one because the house now has beautiful memories. Lovely poem (sort of) Tracie. xo

  2. thank you for sharing this here. despite her choices, it sounds like elsie is now trying to be a part of your lives. our histories – the good, the not so good – shape who we are. it is really wonderful that you took the time to recognize elsie here, and the impact she had/has on your family and home. lovely picture and words. . .

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