home no more

stone on

her grave – I

never saw it.

just the flaming

burial roses

 

home, no place. 

she was mine.

clarity only 

in the 

empty house

 

built by father

brick on brick 

filled with mother’s

life and 

loneliness

 

home no more

childhood comfort -

tasty no longer 

nor filling the hole 

in my heart

© beatrixbrockman 6.12.2022