By: Lara Charmaine Lagorra
A wooden door creaks the entrance hall,
Footsteps tread fine dust through cobwebbed lore,
Darkness creeps a stale, chilled breeze,
Fingers trace cracks in the paint-peeled decaying wall,
A switch then flickered with faint warmth, so familiar,
By the window, as a seabird perches on a table, so small and frail.
Halls still echoed waves of laughter’s ghostly tide,
Of fleeting smiles that once resided.
Bedroom hums linger of old love songs and lullabies,
A gentle touch embraced his bittersweet voice.
A threadbare sentry’s rough fur, still kissed by hand,
Perched when dusk bows on the candlelight.
A kitchen filled with rich aromatic spices in the air,
With smoky crisps on the meals prepared.
A hint of cinnamon sweetness where the stove once kept in time,
A shadowed recipe of what love he once left behind.
His hands, faint, still stir the broth of care—
Each simmered memory seasoned with his prayer.
Two footprints imprinted on the tide’s shore,
Hand in hand, large and small, together splash beneath saltwater’s floor.
Sandcastles, seashells, and silver fishes shimmering on their feet,
With his aroma, a scent of acrid sweetness of burning tobacco.
A mix of bitter earthy beer mingled with salt air
A wistful comfort as the earth’s gold kisses the horizon.
She ponders why he left,
Was it her fault or was it a his choice?
A seabird’s cry where his laugh once is.
She wonders why he was like this,
Her shadow stretches, thin and frail,
Mimicking love that’s grown too pale.
Of lullabies and vanished years,
Of the tales of what used to be known and unknown,
Of ballads of her life forever untold,
All washed by the waves that cleanse and mold,
Memories forever lingering into the tide’s wings,
Time drifted like foam; she still found the place
Yet beneath the beam, she still recognizes his face,
A fleeting glow that can’t erase.
–lying on the sand they once did, as the seabirds fly,
