You are everywhere,
But nowhere in sight.
Teak wood glory,
A nod to your trade.
I had never noticed,
The gleam of the gold mirror’s frame
On your living room wall,
Yet now it’s vintage presence
Has pride of place in mine.
And what of the music
That you spun her around to
At just 16 years of age?
I will dance all the same
Underneath our slanted ceilings
As he takes my hand.
All four of the rooms
Contain a token of you,
Of memories before my time
That your love can no longer
Quite remember to recall.
Each day I sit upon your chair
But no longer on your knee,
I sit beside a new man,
With whom you would be pleased.
Your home and your history
That you had to leave behind,
Now sit upon the table tops
And fill the walls of mine.
©livingthroughlines 2017.
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