My Friend Who Was Here
It feels like he was here a minute ago
and went out for a walk
to gaze at the clear sky.
I look out the window but the whole
world outside is rain and long stitches
of lightning mutilating the sky.
Darkness fell and I glanced at the lonely
coat on the hanger.
He has been gone for more than ten years,
but his cigarette’s still burning in the ashtray.
The Ashtray -- Roberto Mansi
Oh dear! How touching! You've gotten to the core of 'missing' in just a few lines. Bravo! And how Duane has captured the poem with his choice of illustration! Bravo My Mansi, wherever you are.
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