Her smell

Her smell

Or its memory

In evocation

Lingered on the pillow

Until washing

A day that had to come

As drawers were emptied

All but one

Rarely opened

The pain of losing

The connection

With a collection

Of memories

Enough to keep it closed

Perhaps the perfume

Still pervades

The folded material

The briefest glimpse

Can and does

Bring a dreamer

To his knees

Who thought coping

Would be like this

Talking out loud

To an empty room

Waiting for an answer

A strange comfort

In the gloom

Of life

After death.