The diary lies open and empty
A clock strikes the next hour again
Family photos loose colour and yellow
Raffle tickets bring hope to the pain.
One cup stands by the teapot
One plate, one knife and one fork
One pair of boots by the door for the winter
Two red roses tied in a knot.
Silent, the doorbell is waiting
for fingers that never come
Dust covers mementos in mourning
the stillness of a life well done.
© Sheila Ash, 2014