Spring Mourning

An unsettling air.
Where once there was color,
Now shown gray.
Foliage once vibrant
Now stood brown. 
Dilapidated porch
Where once children played. 
Closed windows and drawn curtains kept memories locked inside. 
The entire scene as if it knew - perhaps sensed - your departure.

And a small boy at the bottom of a stone staircase
Folded over himself,
Dirty, bare feet, tattered once-white shirt,
Starlings at his shoulder, 
Alone,
Waits.