A Place We Call Home, 24 x 17cm (each) - Monoprints      



                    

A place we call home
A place we call safe 

Our house
Our haunt

It haunts us in return

An archive of what was,
Of an absent presence

Residue of the past
Preserved for tomorrow

We rearrange and we change
And around us it morphs

But it’s etched in the walls,
An echo in every creak

Books left unopened
A watch with no wrist.

Fingerprints on picture frames,
His reflection stares back.

If home is where he was,

Then what do we call this?