Goodbye, you had to say to every room
When as a child you went out.
Those rooms might not be there when you returned.
Even now, when you’ve been out,
You like to creep back and stare through your windows
As if to catch the rooms by surprise,
To see what they look like in your absence
Or to snatch a glimpse of yourself.
The house a mirror which might make that self seem true.
From Home by Mark Roper.