for a moment, heartache pierces keen

the cottage is warmly lit against the early darkness of an autumn night;

as i silently slip past, i notice the silhouette of stickers on new window panes.

and for a moment heartache pierces keen as i picture myself inside instead,

belonging to the house and it to me —

trailing my fingers along worn wooden rails,

dancing over the creaks in the floor,

watching the sun rise and fall on the walls,

inhaling the scents of a hundred other years and lives and memories.

yes, heartache pierces, for a moment.

and then it is passed,

and i am around the bend in the road,

and drive on.