lost and found

I peer into
the empty house.
the for sale sign in the yard.
I cup my
hands and lean into the plate
glass window.
I see where the table was.
where we gathered
for meals.
I see the couch,
the chair,
the wall where the tv hung,
the mantle where
our pictures stood.
side by side, one by one.
I look under
the mat for the key, but
it's gone.
no mail in the box.
no paper
on the step.
the shrubs are over grown,
the ivy
gone wild up the side
of the brick.
the grass
is thick and brown.
I remember living here.
I remember
her smile, the day,
that night, the wedding gown.
I remember most
everything. once lost,
then found.