Home Poem by Tina MacAdam

A broken window, covered in dust
An empty glass sitting on the table
A love letter, never opened, left behind
Pictures still hanging on the walls
The door left open, swinging in the wind
Flowers in a vase, long ago wilted
Ornaments on the shelf, buried in cobwebs
Everything remains, exactly as it was before
The only thing different is the feeling you get
As you walk around looking at everything
Touching things to see if it is real still
The love, the anger, the romance, the pain
The feelings are still there, buried, hidden
From everyone, under a layer of dust