Memories

The week after the funeral the house was cleared Memories taken to the auctioneers to be sold off, The polished sideboard and dining room table, The picture frames now empty of smiling faces. Treasures collected and stored over fifty years. Memories now fading, scattered to the four winds. Only ghosts remain. Now the house is empty and a for sale sign hangs From the bedroom window as the cold winters chill Blows freely through the house into empty rooms Once full of laughter. The scratches on the bottom Of the door where the dog would scratch. One day new Memories will fill the house but until then the house Remains silent.