Monday, August 18, 2008



The house is quiet now
you never were talkative.

Everything has a place
everything is missing
cupboards fill with food for me
there's no milk for the visitor's
letters drop with just my name
one set of pillows stays smooth.
Sometimes, when I reach out
the absent imprint of your head
fills my hand with all the silences
we collected.

You were never talkative
now the house is quiet.

© Marilyn Hammick

Birds on the Line

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