My Inner Home

Silently in my inner home, 
the pounding of my heart, 
the chirping of a bird, the murmur of the wind whisking by my face,
pulling and pushing the thinned strands of my grey hair.

A symphony of sounds pierces my inner home, the sounds of cars, 
a high flying plane, and children playing in my neighbor’s yard. 
I am seeking to silence my inner voice, quiet and forgetful. 
My restless inner voice, recalling the remote past, the regrets, the mistakes, and many lost opportunities. 
I see their faces in my inner home, their laughs, their pain, and sacrifices. 
Sorry Mom, sorry Dad, I did not tell you I love you.