Monday Musings – The Remains

dried rose

There is always something leftover.
The snow and ice have melted
And soaked into the earth and run down into the creek.
But the azaleas are bent from their weight,
Some branches snapped from the tulip poplar
And lie discarded in the yard.

There is always something that remains.
Coffee cups with a slight residue
In the bottom or a ring marking
The undrunk coffee and left in
The sink overnight.

There is always something unwanted.
Chicken bones, a bit of salad,
A smear of egg on a plate,
The faded teeshirt from last summer –
Worn with so many smiles
And almost like a talisman – at the time.

There is something always that remains.
And though you’ve washed that pink set of sheets
A thousand times, when you make the bed with them,
Your eyes go to that spot,
The semen left behind to dry and crust
After he said he wanted to branch out
And find others more suited to his
Supreme wonderfulness.

There is always something discarded.
The dried rosebuds,
The handwritten notes,
That silly teeshirt he bought
And you wore, almost like a talisman
At the time.

There is always something unused.
Like that beautiful tie
You bought for him the day before he left.
There is always something wasted, unwanted
There is always something remaining,
There is always something discarded.
and this time, it is you.

9 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Let's CUT the Crap!
    Mar 02, 2015 @ 14:36:19

    OOooOOoooo. Awesome, Kanzen. What a picture you have painted. What a story you have drawn.
    ^^’ Ouch.


  2. SirenaTales
    Mar 02, 2015 @ 19:33:03

    Wrenching, beautifully and surely rendered…the repetition is so effective in evoking the mantras we repeat over and over when we are in shock–the “I can’t believe it, I just can’t believe it.” My heart goes out to your friend, kudos to you. xoxo


  3. joannesisco
    Mar 03, 2015 @ 08:34:56

    Beautifully written with a poignant ending.


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