Presence Poem by Prabhakar Subramaniam
Presence
The tooth brush he had used
Is still lying in its place
On the shelf
The half-used soap
Rests in its case
The walking stick
He hated to take out
Reclines against the wall
The steel cot
He had painted last year
Looks good for another decade
As I turn I knock off
His tin of talcum powder
The empty room
Fills with a familiar fragrance
Sunday, January 10, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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4/24/2024 12:55:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
