MY Tie

I think it was one of my ties he wore
When he had his yearbook picture taken,
And I remember the shirt, the blazer
too, as I remember his chin and eyes
And still can hear his voice.

One of the things I remember is the day
He whistled through his rooms upstairs
Moving things around until they suited him
And the rhythm of his rushing down to eat;
Feet on the stairs like a drum-roll,
Smile on his face like a sunrise.

That was a few months before I told him
He had to find a place of his own,
And a few months more before
He stopped speaking to me altogether.
Now, just an echo in the trees,
A shadow brushing past the door.


One response to “MY Tie

  1. this is a haunt.
    feels like my own loss.
    into my wee book of hoarded words it goes..

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