After The Last Word Poem by ashok jadhav

The goodbye was small, almost careless—
no thunder, no warning in the air.
Your voice fell quiet, and the room
forgot how to answer back.
Now silence sits where laughter used to rest.
It stretches between the walls, unbroken,
learning the shape of your absence
better than sound ever could.
I listen for you in the ordinary hours—
in footsteps that never reach the door,
in nights that pause as if expecting
one last word to return.
Goodbyes do not end with the final sound.
They echo into stillness,
leaving behind a quiet so deep
even memory hesitates to speak.