I step into the house,
And sigh.
It's been a long time
Since I've been here.
I touch the wooden table
Lightly
With my fingers
And smell them.
The table
Which once smelled
Of oatmeal cookies
And chocolate cake
Now has an aroma
Of aged wood.
I move to a bedroom
That used to be covered
With a quilt
With all the colors of the rainbow.
Now,
All that remains
Is a mattress
Which used to be white
But now has faded
To a worn,
Wrinkled,
And tired
Brown.
I walk into the living room and expect
To hear
The lapping of the water
From the fishes in the fish tank . . .
But the lapping is gone
And so is the water
And so are the fish.
All left is a tank
As dry
As the desert.
I look around
The room
For a couch
But I realize it's gone too.
In its place is nothing
But the dusty floor.
A soft breeze blows in
Through the window
And carries away a feather
That lay on the floor.
Then,
I feel like that feather -
That I am also
Flying away
But also with the memories
Of the past
Starting a new beginning.
