Always Home (Poetry)

For the first time, I always know where
                              to find you.
You never roam.
It is small comfort now that life is all
                              behind you.

You’re always home
and have to listen quietly while
                              I put my case.
Though I tend to come quite seldom — it’s
                              an uninviting place.

I imagine you’re not entirely comfortable —
                              it’s not your choice.
You cannot stop me visiting or
                              still my voice.

As I look down upon you now and then
                              and read your stone
I mutter thoughts and count the leaves
                              this year’s winds have blown.