Sunday, May 25, 2014
I chose to leave.
She's been quiet since,
empty, still, passively waiting
for someone to notice her, to chose to fill
her void with the sounds, the smells, the ruckus
of life living itself, unravelling time.
Cobwebs and dust have veiled her heart,
yearning, for someone to breathe back life
into vacant chambers.
It's hard to watch potential wither
unable to express
its strong embrace, its gentle being,
its classic beauty,
compared to others
younger, more modern, chic.
Though longevity is desired,
it's rarely admired.
Few are attracted to pace of aging.
I left her,
but still love her.
she simply welcomes my return.
They say one can never
go home again,
(Submitted to Poets United.)
I wanted to move near family, so I placed my house for sale and temporatily moved to a small townhouse in town until my house sold. Then we were to move near my daughter, son-in-law and grandkids. But often our choices are in vain. My house, near the mountains I love, has remained vacant for over a year. Hubby and I have decided to move back in. Though we're sad about not living near family, we're glad to remain with our old house and old friends. Life flows.