A Childhood Memory

I open my eyes to the scene

The sun filtered through a window

Breaking at odd angles from the decorated glass

I sit in front of it on the stairs

They will be home soon

I trace the designs with my toes

Still not home

I sit down again

Wondering what stories they will have for me

What treasures they will share

I can’t wait till they come home

Elizabeth Almeida ©2021

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This Existence