I softly run my fingers along the wall.
I let my eyes settle
On the lightly faded brown footprints.
I remember.
When I was young, I would kick my small feet on the wall,
Wondering
Who was at the other side,
Hearing my call?
The pitter-patter
And the giggles,
Now echo in my mind.
The footprints,
The smaller they are the more faded,
Are slight yet visible.
I haven’t stood on this exact floor
For twenty years, now.
I turn. We are face to face.
I don’t know who started,
Her or I,
But a moment later we are standing there,
Crying
Tears of joy
Flood my cheeks
As we stay
Cradled
In each other’s arms.
Me and my sister.
In our very first home.