Tuesday, September 13, 2011

He's Not Anywhere

He was here
Not so long ago
Dragging a body breaking down
In silent betrayal
But still with a smile
And a chubby hand-shake
With a well-padded, callous palm
I can still hear his voice
It's almost outside my head
The silly things he use to say
Again and again
His empty chair, smelly - like he often was
His shoes, old - like he always seemed to be
His tools, retired - finally
I see him sometimes, when I'm driving
Shuffling by in a black, leather jacket
I check the rear-view mirror
But he's not there
He's not anywhere
He's just not


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