Scents That Remain
Her room is empty.
But her scents remain.
They beckon
Memories,
That ply the pain to the edge
And wrench it out
To stand like gravestones
And glare in moonlight
On the face of he
Who stands, beguiled, in the doorway
Weeping
Retching
Spiraling in a sob.
by Jeanne Poland
8/21/11
Jul 06, 2013 @ 10:42:28
Bravo, Jeanne. One of your best yet. This stirs so many personal memories. Thank you for writing it.
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Jul 07, 2013 @ 12:59:50
Dear David
How fascinating that you were led to August of 2011on July 6 of 2013! I hadn’t even met you yet!
Jeanne
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