There Are We Home Again

By Owen Simons

Our new house looks like a real house finally. It doesnt have weiird bars in front any more. The stucco is on over the grey block.  The gutters look ready to catch rain.

The floor inside is covered wood that smells like citrus because it was washed with benefect. It had lots of dirty walls and it has been washed over and over.  The fireplace built from stones looks great. We are going to cook our turkey in its oven, this thanksgiving.   

My bedroom looks good. I like it.  I look out at the woods just like in Maryland which makes me both happy and sad. It will need lots of curtains it has big windows. 

i feeellll hopeful that there really will not be any more moving. I really hate moving. 

[One of several poems written this month about his favorite celebration…]

[halloween poem]


Ghosts going through the dark

Just flying around

Has a scary effect on everyone

On the ground

Get ready for spooks

You might be afraid

To walk down the street

Because witches serenade

Trick or treats yell the kids

As they run down street

Filling their bags

With candy too sweet

I love Halloween

The fun and the tricks

The decorations and costumes

The treats and the pics

You better be careful

You better watch out

Halloween is coming

Bring it full shout!

[Owen got his voice just before his 25th birthday, when his parents and he learned supported spelling and typing. His parents had been told told that he had the intelligence of a three year old. In fact, he knew how to read, to write, and to do math in his head — but was unable to reliably control his body to let the world know it. To find out more about this, you could read ” Ido in Autismland” by Ido Kedar. And, hopefully soon, you can read Wystan and Owen’s own book about their journey together out of darkness into understanding.]