Bin liners full of newly ironed clothes
I imagine the crisp creases still remain,
they've not yet lain long enough for the crumples to form.
Boxes of photographs
with shiny gloss finishes and neat corners,
not old enough to be sunbleached and coffee stained.
The odd lonely button from your jacket sits in the drawer,
spare parts that were never used.
Socks with no match.
CD's with missing covers,
And a half empty bottle of whisky.
Books barely thumbed through
and an abstract painting,
is all that remains of you.
In time, they will be gone
Faded, tatty and worn.
Your scent lingers
And memories linger longer.
This poem draws out a picture, truth in all its glory that fades in time... GREAT POEM!