CG Express

We enter an arched door, into a snug vestibule,
Where shoes line up in a neat row,
And hooks have cloaks hanging.
Rose pulls off her shoes and slides into slippers.
There’s another pair, grey plaid.
They look my size.
“Go on,” Rose says.
“But how…?”
“Never mind, just follow.”
I do as she says.
My feet sing in these slippers,
Supple, cushioned, perfect fit.
Yes, I hear a song.
But the melody is from my lips,
Released without thought by a bird,
Its music travels, through the house
Calling me to rooms within,
Memories unknown, till now.
“Welcome home.”