WHETHER HE WOULD RETURN.

Whether he would return again,
Whether he would repeat
The words he spoke,

Or joke about it all
And try to pass it off
As a mere mood piece,

She didn’t know,
But the leaving of him,
The shadow of his passing

From the room, remained
In her mind like some stain
That spreads over pure cloth.

Maybe he wouldn’t,
Maybe that was that,
The final going,

The last farewell,
And sitting there
Against the bed,

Musing into space,
A small smile crept slowly
Upon her morning face.

WHETHER HE WOULD RETURN.

TerryCollett

Horsham, United Kingdom

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poem

Artwork Comments

  • KEITH  R. WILLIAMS
  • jetsta42
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