This house has people in it.
In every fingerprint on every fragment of furniture
And every loving creak in each floorboard bowed with the weight
Of a thousand steps toward wide smiles and good company.
This house will still have people in it long after
Every door is locked and every window shuttered, and those inside
have left to venture on alone.
Echoes live in hallowed halls and imprint themselves on storied walls,
Each homeward glance inventories memories and accounts experiences
That warm us through the winter months
when we’re carried far from home.
We cast unseeing eyes over handprints bedecking every room in which we live
but never live alone.
Hands intwined may make a home, and
Hearts and minds find station in foundations set below in stone.
This house has people in it, and
By our love, it always will.