Nobody would notice from the outside.
She keeps the house exactly as before -
the white lace curtains at the kitchen window,
spring bulbs peeking out of neat containers
like soldiers standing guard outside the door.
The moment of your passing seems to have
been stopped in time - as if you were still there
cooking and cleaning behind the façade.
Her footsteps crunch on gravel as she leaves
for work each day. The cuttings that you took
last year are watered, the lawn still as neat.
Your daughter has poured herself into your
empty space. You have been gone some time, but
the house next door pretends you are still there.
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