Echoes in the walls.

On a shelf of the quaint bedroom

lies a farmer’s almanac, dusty and weathered;

in the kitchen, a saucepan of a grandmother,

family gatherings simmer inside;

in the den, her recliner;

the glasses of wine and the voices on the phone,

which have grown fewer and fewer,

under the dim glow of the picture box;

down a single hall of memories,

tears of years passed by;

summers on the porch bench,

winter sparkles of the cornered tree

the steps into the garden of a childhood long ago; 

the hummingbird flutters, the butterflies gather,

the hydrangea blooms, of blues and pinks and purples;

a gentle reminder of love never ceasing.