After I Am Gone

After I am gone

he’ll sit there on a Sunday night,

controller in hand,

wondering which games he can play that won’t remind him of me.

 

After I am gone,

she will throw away half of her recipe box,

her books,

her aprons,

and she won’t buy chocolate anymore,

but keep the peanut butter in the fridge

on the off-chance that I might come back.

 

After I am gone

the two of them will climb the mountain every year,

first to scatter me to the wind,

and then to image that every single speck of dust they see

might just be my ashes.

 

And after I am gone,

whenever that happens,

he will pick up his phone

and almost be relieved to find

not a single text from me.

Author's Note

I was feeling really inspired tonight. This was a super-quick write, still really raw.

Reviews

[Almond Syiem]

An interesting and nice poem. Thank you for sharing...

[bjornne]

This was organized and neat ,yet at the same time it felt so natural and raw

[JC]

to me the raw, quick emotion at the instant its there makes for the best works...i am there and lost in your introspection of death and the reality you assume but frustratingly will never know.

[misha]

This was a delicate piece yet it was strong and made a point. Great write!

[Cory James]

awesome! I can totally understand where this is coming from and it flows very well.

[Saddam]

first to scatter me to the wind,
and then to image that every single speck of dust they see
might just be my ashes.
Very nice poetry with lots of emotions. I love this very much. thanks.

[kumars]

ilike your writhing. nice work that is great of your skill.

[Another Relic]

Clear and precisely written. A pleasure to read although sad too.
100/100

[Calissa Knox]

This really made me ponder. Most often, we don't think about the effects we'll have on other people once our time here is over. This is a beautiful, and interesting poem.

[Chris]

It has some bite... and hints to a backstory. An aftertaste to me of self-justifying...