There are barren rooms

on familiar streets,

with relics packed

as time defeats

 

It was a home

inside a house,

a haven once

now emptied out

 

What lingers bleeds

into the grain,

braiding angles

where doors meet frames

 

This letting go

feels like submission,

staining floors

from den to kitchen

 

Memories made

on grass and stone

stray from porches

in winds alone

 

Sidewalk routes

down blocks traversed

invoke review

by aimless search

 

There’s no reprise,

just arising strength

to find some solace

in walls you wake

 

As morning blooms,

bathed in light,

a chapter ends

subtle overnight