I have gone back to the house again

 

I have gone back to the house again.

In the shadows of my mind

In the remnants and shards of old memories

I have walked through the front door again

The floorboards have squeaked, light has bounced off the walls and I have struggled with my bags into the hall.

The doors have been open and it is Summer outside, and I have walked across the bright clean room to the French doors and balcony and looked down on the cool green garden and out on to the cool green wood

And you have called to me from the garden

As you sit in the sun

And the cat has appeared and meandered up the path, up the patio, to the back door, hoping I will feed him.

And the sounds of the city is muted

And the swallows’ cries, as they dart above the roof tops, fills the air

And in the house it is cool and shady and the sofa waits,

With piles of papers to read near by

I kick off my shoes, go down the wide stairs,

In the kitchen, the tiles are cool under my feet

The cat meets me and meows a hello.

In the shadows of my mind

In the remnants and shards of old memories

I do this again.

And again.

And again.

I have gone back to the house again

But I have not, cannot, go home.

14^th June 2009