An old caller knocked on memory's door
tried hard to turn away
but I let the door open
and allowed my mind to wander
through the old stomping grounds
of that time that marched on
I could hear the old footsteps
and I turned around
saw the ghost of what was once
my life, your life, our life
the floor boards moaned
from the lack of use
after being worn down to almost nothing
so long ago
the dust settled was disturbed once again
my fingerprints still visable from my last trip
through this house of unlocked doors
no stone, no trinket left unturned
when meaning was trying to be found
on why this place stood empty
and yet never hollow
yes, there is something lingering there
is it anything but me
is it anyone but a fading memory
~~~~~
Kerry
http://www.kerrywentworth.com
kerry@kerrywentworth.com
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