A Change of View

My finger prints still seen on the window glass.. Roses once peaked as petals fell and scattered pass.. The dust on the vase still holds traces color and glow.. The dim light fights its way pass the curtains to show.. The paper still has imprints of words once written down.. Maybe a write on love or a lost day with some dreams found. . The creaking of the chair still beats to its own song.. Could be the music from a poem of right and wrong.. The view from the window that once motivated these eyes.. Now makes room for a new sight to see their own sky.. The walls now blank where once laughter was heard.. This Poet now moves on to a picture and a new word.. My Mom is selling the house I grew up in.. A little sad but its time...