Where a Picture Has Been Removed

    by Fred Longworth

You know her by the tipping

of the scale, by letters sent

with thin sheets of a heart folded inside,

and by the rusty hinge that waits

beside the street, yet does not howl.

You know her by the tarnished pin

that sits inside her jewelry box.

You know her by the theater ticket

that was never stubbed. You know her

by the phone tag, and by the toothbrush

that finally is discarded in the trash.

You know her by the shadows

in the photographs, by erasures

on the calendar. By an earring lost

behind the sofa. In the end, you know her

by the outline on the wall.

© 2012  Fred Longworth

Fred Longworth restores vintage audio components for a living. His poems have appeared in numerous journals including California Quarterly, Comstock Review, Pearl, Rattapallax, Spillway, and Stirring.