Poems

This house, Yes, a treasure chest of sounds, Creaking noises, White lights, Experiences Calling every hair to attention. Even in midday. Today I thought I heard a door opening, But when I looked, Only the breeze Playfully announcing Its wistful presence. Today, I thought I smelled your cologne, But when I looked,  Only the curtains Slowly dancing With the wistful breeze, Spreading The gentle lingering remnants Of Your obsession, Perhaps my obsession. Today, I thought I heard footsteps, But when I looked, Only footprints Like the ones forever softly Embedded in my heart. Oh, how I miss you.