There are pieces of you around my house,
too much of you remains in my home.
When I think about what you left behind,
aftershave and wine glasses in my house,
records we listened to while we made love,
there’s no room for me here in my home,
clothing and jewelry you purchased for me,
I wore in photos scattered around my house.
You need to do some collecting –
I’ll convert this back to my sweet home.
Bio: Mona Mehas (she/her) writes about growing up poor, accumulating grief, and the climate from the perspective of a retired, disabled teacher in Indiana, USA. Her work has been published in over forty journals, anthologies, and online museums. Mona is a Trekkie and enjoys watching Star Trek shows and movies in chronological order. Her pamphlet, ‘Questions I Didn’t Know I’d Asked,’ is forthcoming with LJMcD Communications. Follow on Twitter @Patienc77732097 and linktr.ee/monaiv.
