Returning

We return to find
the magnolia still
bruising itself into blossom. 

Inside, 
light grazing the walls, 
ghosts avoiding one another on the landing,
time rustling in a box,
and the rain, always the rain, dripping
through the
rooms which are
reconciling themselves
to emptiness.

Watch out for
the energy leftover 
from the phone calls that
changed our lives.

Angels murmur in the garden,
because that’s how the mother explained the wind’s noises,
creeping through the eaves.

At the end, all that’s left is
the stories, my brothers and I.

Sometimes you can hear 
a voice through the doorway
saying
This house hates change. 

Imogen is a 23 year old living in Bristol having just finished studying English. In her free time, when she’s not writing, she enjoys swimming in rivers.