Milk Carton

Through the key hole
Her chair is warm
Still rocking from her presence

A moment without witness
Lingers in the cool light
Breaking through the lock
To rest
Where the dust settles

Her voice carries through the distant wind
Outside the room
A song not quite remembered
Soft notes leaving hints
To follow

She is a whisper
Her breath on the window
Reminding all who see
That she had been
Waiting

A scribbled message
To find her
In the empty room

 

Advertisements

One comment

Leave a Reply

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