Our home is so full of you,
Romantic novels on shelves
And pictures of your family
On walls.

Found a faded photo of my
Mother in a drawer, memory
Of this modest woman filled
My eyes.

Stranger in my own home,
I have to look inwards to
Remember that once I too
Belonged.

Pictures on the wall, faces
Watching me, keeping their
Secrets in black frames of
Her sorrow.