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?