Leaving

I will remember how the slanted light
visited my room, and how the clock
I mended - so many years ago - measured
the flow of then through now to next
dropping each steady second in the pool
of such time as is left. They drop like stones.

Somewhere the furniture that lived with me
will still be knocking about. My chair. My desk.
The little bed I dreamed on, waited, wept,
now are all gone, to dustiness, to sales
and nothing to hold but untold memories.
A floorboard creaks, door closes, last look back,
and then the turned key, prisoning the heart.


Tess at Willow Manor offered Andrew Wyeth's picture "Big Room"
for this week's Magpie prompt.