The Notes You Have Left

“Make yourself at home”

I eased my two feet, too small,

Into worn and ripped slippers

And shuffled over hardwood floors,

Through spaghetti-stained carpet

With a smile, plastered on my face,

As I traced our path to this point.

“Feel better soon”

Wrapped in layer after layer, like I’m

Experiencing that first childhood snow.

Humming show tunes to test my voice

Or lack thereof, because there isn’t anything worse

Than boredom.  Except the non-existent tick

Of your digital clock, resting next to my head.

“No milk”

Pushing a trolley through the stacks

Of discounted washing powder and

Garish Christmas wrapping paper,

Looking for that one item on my list.

Trying to keep on course, despite

The best attempts of two wheels

To end this trip early. 

“Sorry”

Your absence, far more valuable

Than your self, leaves me reversing

Those steps made in slippered feet. 

I wasn’t sure I’d find the same route again

Until your notes covered it like yellow bricks.