Dust and Remembrance

The air thick with echoes, a soft lavender hum,

as I sift through the remnants, the life of the gone.

Her chair sits unclaimed, wrapped tight in the dust,

a tapestry woven from memories, trust.

I open the drawers, uncover her books,

faded covers whispering tales in the nooks.

Photographs smile from the shadows and sigh,

a ghost in the frame, as I question the why.

Each item I touch holds a fragment of her,

a life lived so vibrant, now softly a blur.

I linger on moments, on laughter and tears,

a house full of memories, but silence appears.