As You Left It

Love never really disappears

Two hairpins rest beside the bathroom basin.

A Sunday paper (two weeks old)

Still is on the sofa.

Magazines you forgot to read

Await you exactly where you left them.

There is a strand of your hair. . . .

A new box of kleenex. . . .

Two plants. . . .

A collection of letters. . . .

And me.

 

It is all as you left it. . . .

Especially me.

Reviews

[J. J. Nightingale]

We can't always let go .. and maybe we shouldn't
I have every little thing right in it's place
Just the way He left it
I'll have to move someday soon
Don't know if I'll make it out, alive
I can't bare the loss .. again

There you go pulling those old heartstrings again ..
A touching write David ... Jazzy xx

[DrD]

Good morning, Jazz and thank you as always.

[J. J. Nightingale]

xx J.

[Harry Alston]

Haunting yet beautiful, excellent write.

[DrD]

Thanks for your visit, Harry and your kind words

[h d e rushin]

The stuff of relationships is so much harder to distance oneself from, than photographs.
Pictures can be hidden in the leafs of old books or locked away in drawers
under old unworn cloths. But letters, a strand of hair, a plant, these things
find harbor in our senses and can strike up a dream..

I am impressed by this style of writing and thanks for sharing it,
dana

[DrD]

My wife died in 2007. Your comments are deeply appreciated.

[Pax Analog]

Your poem concisely registers the eerie hallowed artifacts of a significant other's departure, whether by break-up or death. This feels like the latter in its simple dignity. The observing self notes even its disposition is as the other left it. Haunting.

[rnuff]

Wow sounds kind of prolific as well as profound.
It kind of grasp me there at the end. Almost sounds
like someone is about to leave (or) head for a divorce.
Maybe just another way of thinking things through, so one
doesn't leave. (Deep powerful intriguing write)