Nason Hill Road
The rooms are bright white,
empty square chambers.
With memories stale in the air.
The creeping echo of your voice.
Glossy refinished pine floors,
swimming in polyurethane.
Done new for someone new,
who can never appreciate our time here.
Hollow except the single bed,
so inviting to lay my head.
Feel the thick, crisp comforter warm me,
and the lumpy mattress envelope me.
Hold me in its lumps, molding into me.
The lone lamp on the oak nightstand,
lit dim, a solitary candle.
Alone.
Never to see you in this house again.
To not feel love,
nor hear the laughter I long for.
When once you knocked on my door for guidance...
curious and naive.
Now you are grown and strong...a Marine.
Still, I see the boy in your face,
the innocent, blushing child I grew with.
To return a man,
if to return at all.
Walking through the hallways,
the sun hazes your ghostly figure.
One,
without.
Never to wake careless at noon.
Never to touch these creaky floors with my bare feet.
The growing,
our wonder years.
All the fighting screams.
The energy...
But mostly you.
And when you left me brother- so did this place.
Where will I go to find you...if you never return?
Copyright © Ann T. | Year Posted 2006
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