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Watching
you without me
When I am gone, and the world still rolls along,
will you think of me at all?
As you relax into my favorite chair, reading a book by the newly
bought lamp that I wouldn't have liked.
And the children, continuing to grow without my advice,
call when they remember to,
kindly asking how you are,
making obvious arrangements around you.
Will you, I wonder, see me at all?
Beyond your heart and beyond your eyes,
in the skirting board I meant to paint,
in those things still where you left them,
in the handle of the door that does not turn,
in the heartbreak of those little things
that once seemed so important,
Beyond the ghosts of hours that fill nothing,
when my shadow still lies clutching at your pillow
re-inventing the crush of love's last kiss.
And so alone... now love has come to this.
by Stephen Hirons
Read the story behind this poem
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