Two Casings

Tears on the bed,

darkened room.

Wind blown through

an open window.

Clothes rustle

as, one by one,

they fall from hangers.

Bedspread perfect,

door ajar, room lit by the sun,

Lines in the dust

accumulated on the dresser.

Pictures, jewelry, everything,


Sheet music flitters 'cross the room,

blown by the rotating blades

of a ceiling fan.

Flip the switch,

circuit's broken.

White sheets blanket;

the room's disappeared,

as the years pass.

Same as was left,

curtains flutter in the wind.

Drawers dragged out,

furniture is removed

piece by piece.

Bed stripped, pillows washed,

all scent is gone.

Spotless room,

carpet stains removed.

The desk remains in place.

Drawer by drawer,

disassembled in the solitude.

One remains, mirror atop the pedestal.

Slide open, a curious hand;

one last piece of silk

and two casings stand,

untouched by time.

In haste, 'twas left;

room bare, but this.

Her perfume in the silk,

the casings, his warmth contain.

The quiet glass of time protect,

have time not ruined.

And, holding hands,

two lovers smile into the dawn.