Walking a path that used to lead to your home.
Listening to the wind as it plays your favorite song.
Thinking about the birds fighting the cold as they head south.
Passing the places that dare not speak.
Walking over the memories of the ones that are no longer.
Not realizing the souls, the left this earth here.
Only thinking about the souls that are left to walk this path.
Seeing the trees where swings hang for kids only to think about the fruit that it used to bear.
This is a place that you called home, and others still do.
This path is one that is hard to walk and only a few do it.
You walk it every day.