As the ornate, carved door
Creaked open, I froze
The sounds of laughter
Seeped into my ears
I could smell the aroma
Of spicy mushroom xacuti
That my mother was busily cooking
In the kitchen, while chatting with me
As I sat on the hard white cane chair
My elder sister rushed in
sharing her news for the day
As I heard my father honking in the car outside
In all that hustle, my dog Rover
Came running down the hill
I opened my eyes as I felt the tears
Welling up in my eyes
My family was more in spirit
Than in reality, friendly ghosts
of the past lingered on
In that beautiful home.
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