Monday, February 12, 2018

Peycho Kanev writes

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.
Image result for ashtray painting
The Ashtray -- Roberto Mansi

1 comment:

  1. 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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