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Old memories and dreams
Breathless in this silent space,
Left desolate by time,
I linger here in memory,
Reaching out with invisible fingers,
Seeking something long ago lost.
How many laughs echo in my ears?
How much music drenches these walls?
I feel the eyes; hear voices that stop here,
They see simple walls, the paint fading.
The linoleum we chose now cracked and scuffed.
How could they understand the lives we lived here?
Or why I can never leave?
So I remain, hovering in this small space,
Reliving the love the bound me in life,
It’s power still refusing to relinquish me to death.
I am here, so real and yet unseen to the living.

© Copyright 2008 Jane Conder (broken73 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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