In The Drawer

by Margaret Livingston
(Ohio)

I found a folded handkerchief
tucked in the drawer the other day.
The fabric so old, like tissue,
a purple edging, and your initial
embroidered by hand,
a border surrounding the 'A', protecting it.

I held it up
and the light shone through it.
It made me wonder,
where is he?

A little square of cloth became a time machine.
How hard I wished that I could
use it to wipe away all the time tears
that have been shed during the years
since your passing.

Just for today, I will inhale a lingering scent
and pretend that soon I'll hear your voice again.

Just for today I will put this token in my pocket
and remember happier times.

But when today ends
the scents, the remembered sounds, and the handkerchief
will go back
in the drawer.