i still remember

(so maybe i’m a day late. also, this is an older poem, written many aprils ago.)

i still remember
the puff of cold air
on my bare stomach as i opened the door.

how i found you there
in my search for butter and jam,
i will never know.

your every nuance
is still recorded by this home
(though it is just a house now)
in every thing.

i still remember
sinking to the ground, sobbing,
as the refrigerated air seeped into the room
to fill the crevices you left.


share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s