this too will pass

poem no. 7

time passes.

light shifts on the kitchen -

warming tiles, casting light over us,

sitting there like we did when we were little.

the breeze blowing through open windows,

bringing the smells of meals already eaten -

faces changed,

the table stays the same.

the floorboards creak more now then they used to.

stairs always coated in a thin layer of dust.

stepping over memories,

in the spot where others have walked before.

paint peels on the window frames.

they creak loudly when I close them.

shutting out the sound of laughter from voices i no longer recognise -

from people i never got to know.

across the street a cat crosses the road.

there was always a cat there,

though the colour changes.

birds always watch from the church roof.

on the fence,

balancing there like we did when we were little.

fading sun, warming concrete pathes.

time keeps passing.