Door

The signs of your 
    passing
Are everywhere
    Leaving
Marks in abundance
    Shallow
Where you moved fast
    Deep
Where you stood.

Some signs blur with
    Time
Rains and winds 
    Scatter
All but the memory 
    Gone.
There are new 
    Tracks 
And even more paths.

Every day, the same 
    Door
Stands open, creaking
    Open
Sounding off a 
    Hope
That you will...
    Return.
And I close the door.