My Searching Begins Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

The house is now quiet,
the children have gone

My beard they've left ruffled,
as memories grow long

With trains and dolls scattered
where last they played

Their love remains buried
inside of the maze

The cupola harkens
a last candle there burns

As the attic sits waiting
for the toys to return

The old house is silent
but deep from within

Their laughter still hides
—and my searching begins

(Thanksgiving: November,2016)