Back to the Start

Boxes stacked high, each one tells a tale,

the scent of nostalgia, a bittersweet trail.

Dust motes dance gently in sun’s amber glow,

as I sift through the memories, a cautious hello.

The floorboards still creak underfoot, just the same,

with whispers of childhood, the echo of name.

Yet I stand here, uncertain, caught somewhere between,

a retreat to the past and the life that has been.

Familiarity wraps around me, thick as the air,

as I settle into a room filled with care.

For though I’m returning, I’m not who I was,

I’m building a future, with all of the scars.