My Inner Home

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.




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