empty rooms

the empty house,
with empty rooms,
the walls free of pictures,
the nails
still there
where the frames
were removed.
the cupboards bare,
a crumb or two,
a line of sugar,
a dash
of salt.
the closets unburdened
by coats
or shoes.
how sad is to leave,
and start over,
hearing your
voice
echo in these empty
rooms.