Silently in my inner home, the pounding of my heart,
the chirping of a bird, the murmur of the wind whisking by my face,
pulling and pushing the thinned strands of my grey hair.
A symphony of sounds pierces my inner home, the sounds of cars, a high flying plane, and children playing in my neighbor’s yard.
I am seeking to silence my inner voice, quiet and forgetful.
My restless inner voice, recalling the remote past, the regrets, the mistakes,
and many lost opportunities.
I see their faces in my inner home, their laughs, their pain, and sacrifices.
Sorry Mom, sorry Dad, I did not tell you I love you.