His snappy two-toned glasses
people knew him by
that sat on one end-table
and his brown briefcase that stood table-side,
can only channel his countenance as
my dad’s no longer here to use them.
Mom has moved them now
but these and other little things
that spark so many memories,
I hang onto
and quietly cherish them.
©2009 Shari Lynne Smothers
Prompt: Write a hanging poem. This is my poem for Day 15 of the November PAD Chapbook Challenge 2009, from Poetic Asides