Men leave
by bits;
they scatter
everywhere --
rings and watches
coffee cups
keys and cards
on dresser tops
with old receipts
balm for dry lips
loose change
that piles and grows
on kitchen desks
unopened mail
empty packs of gum
and folded handkerchiefs
upstairs their socks and shoes
last night's book
yesterday's shirt --
they shed themselves
like skin.
Someday I expect to find
a finger by the sink
shinbones on the stairs
teeth and hair
on the bathroom floor
an indentation
in the empty bed.
Karen
Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I love this - it seems lighthearted, but then takes a melancholy turn at the end.
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree with The Bug, it does turn melancholy.
ReplyDeleteWomen on the other hand leave with their purses full. :)
How true.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, too... the images remind me of the hubby and all of his "leavings."
I am impressed. Very nice poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks, all! My daughter read this and said it's an all-time nasty poem about her dad. I wanted to tell her that poetry is all truth and half lies, all past and half future, all memory and half imagination, and when you write it, it's all you.
ReplyDelete