Night Whispers

In the hush of the night, a floorboard creaks slow,

the sound of a memory that wraps me in woe.

It sighs like my father, returning from fights,

softening footsteps like dreams in the nights.

Each creak is a story, a tethered lament,

pulling me back to where comfort once went.

Sunlight may fade, but the echoes remain,

a reminder of love woven deep in the grain.