The Farewell

A small yellow room

A blue chair, edges worn

A vase with no flowers,

Its stem chipped.

A woman’s life

Is caught here.

Behold. Nothing.

The paint has lifted;

Carpet’s thread exposed.

A cup on the side, tea

Riding the crest.

This is her home,

Her chamber of nought;

So stark, the memories are lost.

Save one, formed in spring.

Her with a little case,

A photo and dank hair,

Dropped off: do not return.

A middle-aged man

Leaving the room.

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