Empty Rooms, Still Echoing

The rooms are hushed now, as if they wait,
Silent witnesses to laughter that once bloomed
Like wildflowers, scattered through these halls.
Now the walls hold their breath,
Your absence a shadow cast longer than night.

I run my fingers over the things you’ve left,
A coat, a book, a single earring lost in the corner,
As if touching them might bring back the warmth
That slipped through my fingers
When you stepped out the door,
Two birds in flight, into skies I cannot reach.