The Yellow Room

I was in love with my house when I bought it. I had so long wanted to own my own home. It represented for me arrival, the beginning of a new, more settled phase of a beautiful life I would share with the person I loved. Each day of the past year and a half I've learned, a house can do nothing for grief but hold it. Today, I look at these pretty walls I've painted and they bring me all the pleasure they can. But I can't help thinking of Robert Frost's poem:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower,
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.