Here, in the rooms
of my childhood
I, an adult now
walk through memory
made real again
amazed at how small
the Past is
(to my Present self)
I thought these rooms
immense
& now they shrink
before my shadow
climbing the stairs
the shadow of
my footfall
this old house
no longer mine
(except in my mind)
echoing with footsteps
as I walk
through my tears
& see the dead arise
To greet me
as if they were not
dead
& how
they exist
inside me
living still
as my beating heart
these walls once knew me
& still remember me
as they touch my fingertips
touching them
(almost believing)
that the opening door
will still bring
me
you.
(For Brian...’cos he knows)
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-house-of-my-home/
