Lights In The Window

I stood in the distance from your home as twilight fell,

Where shadows of us still softly dwell.

The lights were on, as if you might be,

Waiting inside, remembering me.

As entered close, the steps creaked beneath my slow return,

Each footfall heavy with lessons that I’ve learned.

I reached for the knob, as though time could bend,

But found only silence, an old absent friend.

How many times had we sat on this stoop,

Laughing at stars in a shared little loop?

Now the night feels colder, the sky far too vast,

And I'm left with whispers that slip from the past.

Your scent in the wind—faint, but there,

A mirage of a touch that lingers in air.

I peer through the window, the rooms are aglow,

But you're not inside, you left long ago.

Yet the walls still hum with the things we said,

And I feel your warmth though you're years ahead.

It's strange how a place can hold so much,

Even when the heart forgets the touch.

I linger a while, before moving away,

Carrying pieces of you into the fray.

The house remains, but we have gone,

Like daylight fading before the dawn.