And if I died tomorrow
would you find the pieces
of my life that scatter,
that fall away, and finding
them, would they matter?
Would you pause over
crumbs collected in
the corners of my chair,
would you stare like
you were staring at
some pieces of a puzzle?
Spare change from
my desk at work,
photograph of me laughing
with people you don't know,
some recipe for food
I never cooked for you
on a notecard, in a book.
Would you find
a turquoise ring, my
fraternity pin, college papers
and grade school report cards,
the Star Wars toys in the attic?
Would you find these poems,
written only for you?
And would they cast
a shadow you never saw
me cast? Would you ask me
in my absence who I think I am?
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