They say "it's never easy to go home"
Which is true, sometimes.

I went home today to the hole where, until two days ago
the house where I had spent most of my life before marriage
stood.
It's gone now leaving only a hole
and as big as the hole looked
in the bright sunshine of a Connecticut Sunday in May
It is not as big, I know, as the hole in my sibling's heart
having had to say good bye to the only house
she had ever known.