The Closing of a Home

It was all I could do to open the door.
How many times had I stood there
Greeted me before my hand touched the knob.
"Are you coming in, I'm not paying to cool the outside."

I step over the threshold to silence.
Then her voice
Drifted over time and space
"Wipe your feet before I swipe your hind end"


I sit in her chair surrounded by her things.
The smell of her gently wrapping her around me,
"If vanilla is good enough for cookies, it's good enough for me."

We shared this room, this house, our names,
Our lives
Two strong willed women,
Each right at the wrong time.
"You will remember, young lady, I am always right."

She is now just a picture on a wall,
Memories in a box.
A longing that will never go away.
It was all I could do to close the door.