Never

I am 16 &
My mother is
Horrified at the
Mess in the upstairs
Bedrooms and announces
At supper that she will never
Go upstairs again a promise she
Keeps telling us to clean up our
Own rooms or live in the mess
An arrangement we all agree
To eagerly as we are teens
And my father grew up on
A farm so all in all a new
Era of peaceful amity
Emerges as mother
Gladly keeps to her
Downstairs studio
Where she paints
Relaxes sleeps
Hides from
The mess
Upstairs
But she
Has a
Serenity
Able to ignore
What she knows
Is just up the stairs
Safe in her studio living
And dining rooms plus
The lunch-breakfast
Room all clean and
Neat where order
Reigns and dust
Or clutter is
Banned so
Never is
Day-to-
Day.
Luckily,
San Antonio
Has a nice breeze
And the attic exhaust fan
Creates an updraft to
Bring fresh air into
The downstairs
An amicable
Armistice
Of never.