I Know She Lives Here Poem by Johan Venter

I look down memory lane - that's where she resides.
Fear accompanies me as I force my stride -
The shade of the trees is too deep,
Every shadow harbouring a bitter cold.

The house is painted Winter green,
The pavement soiled with Autumn gold.
The door an illusion, a doormat without greeting -
Windows reflecting only seasons gone by.

Her house a tomb for times gone by.
In every room a bed I made yet never slept in.
Pictures on wall: Some I recall, some alien.
Faces and occasions - some empty frames.

I feel her presence - yet she's not here.
She's all around - I taste her sweet in the air.
Her bed left unmade, dishes attracting flies.
Things left undone and so never will be -
She is my past, and I know she lives here.