It was blue then, now beige
and, many colors in between:
carmine, white and then to green.
It has a fresh steel door,
yellow pastel, and a black
Silverado in the drive.
I’ve seen other doors there,
other trucks, a sedan or two,
and a coupe intervening since then.
I suppose the rooms inside
have seen many shades – perhaps pink –
many coats to clear the stains.
Everything’s changed save the number.
Everything’s changed since the shots,
ever since the blue and red screaming lights,
the long yellow tapes – the unhurried heads
Hung low in mumbles, and the passage
of three long slow transports – yes –
ever since the children.