March

March
brought again to me
Absence

That word
repeats
throughout these walls

Desperately
trying to hear my home
sounds

But the birds have flown away
and he
marches no more

Leaving me with nothing
again
except memories whispering
in the walls
as I am reminded
that life marches on and
on and on
this slow and winding
path

You can only watch
the March flowers
bloom
for a short while

March
that word
right off my lips

All it brings
is absence.

                                  photo via