~vacant Dwelling~
I’ve been here many times before
The door still wears the same coat of paint
The gold colored doorknob
Have only few patches of gold left
The years of wear and tear evident
Sliding it open that old familiar smell
Wafts pass me, as if in a rush to escape…
The emptiness screams at me
In a fight to jolt my memory
Alas it’s not necessary
I use to spend days here
Recollection comes naturally
Days of lying on the couch
Soaking up the fresh sea breeze,
When the day was almost done
You sitting in your favorite chair
We would talk for hours at a time
Now all that’s left are memories
Laughter is gone and with it the sun
Too many open spaces
In this place where love use to dwell…
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