What Those Who Leave First Really Leave Us Poem by RIC BASTASA

let us start with an empty bed
they leave us
warmth there
one that has
heat in our palms
so hard to forgo
to forget

and they leave us
black and white
pictures of their
faces, not ghostly
but lovely faces
of those we still
love

they never want
to leave us
in the first place
they really want
to stay, but they
were taken just
the same

and that makes
us sadder really

then the cabinet
where their clothes
are: silent and you
smell them and closer
closer you touch them
and feel them in
your heart: pain seeps
a little closer

and then you walk
through the door that
you just closed and the
windows that still refused
to admit the fresh air
in the morning: you are
still mourning in black
and not talking much

and on and on
to the backyard the flowers
wilting and to the comfort room
where their sweats still
linger: figments of mildew
sketches of their faces
still there
some finger
prints on the mirror when
they were still brushing
their teeth

after all these
we ask again
what are these people really leaving us?
come to think of it
they are still here and they haven't really
left us yet
the love is still in our hearts

come to think about all these again
is there really leaving?
i guess, there is none because for a person
who really loves
no one leaves
everyone stays together like eternity