Echo
When you’re not here,
I clap my hands
on occasion and listen
as the sound dilates
into a deeper drumming,
and when it returns, I imagine
it’s the patter of footsteps
of you or our daughters
descending the stair.
And when you three return to me,
you better believe
you’ll return to applause.
Such a touching piece about the joy of family and the warmth of coming home.♥️
Absence makes the heart grow fonder