It echoes more now since the furniture’s all gone, with nothing to soak up footsteps and throw away chatter.
It seems bigger too; white expanse against bare floor boards, nothing else to break the contrast.
There’s no sadness, no loss.
It was our home, a temporary hat stand, a four – year cacoon.
Now it’s ready for someone else, to build their memories and their next chapter.
Bricks and motar, a big box for your stuff – I don’t mind leaving that behind.
Because memories come with and the best bits are filed away: the new years’ eve celebration and nights of far too much wine. The evenings asleep on the sofa, the never ending list of TV dinners.
And, anyway, it’s time to start somewhere else, to build a new home.
The routines needn’t change much, the friends calling by are the same. A new empty shell will protect us tonight.
And this one will lie empty, awaiting new footsteps, with our gratitude for company, with our thanks for all the memories, those stored and those forgotten.