It’s been weeks,
and the refrigerator stands empty.
Except for our bed sheet,
nothing has remained on the clothesline-
everything else has been carried away
by the wind.
In the old parking lot,
strangers sometimes find bras and underwear.
Handkerchiefs and
your black socks.
It’s been weeks
and sometimes I accidentally reach out
to your side of the bed.
Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 12:20 PM UTC
It’s been weeks,
and the refrigerator stands empty.
Except for our bed sheet,
nothing has remained on the clothesline-
everything else has been carried away
by the wind.
In the old parking lot,
strangers sometimes find bras and underwear.
Handkerchiefs and
your black socks.
It’s been weeks
and sometimes I accidentally reach out
to your side of the bed.