HE KNOWS
He knows that somewhere
a light will always
shine for him.
There, tucked away in a drawer in the city,
was his one-time home –
with yellow lamps, funny
new year decorations, a clean towel
on the rack in the bathroom, the smell
left by that day’s lunch, his nursery
cup for tea, with faded curtains
onto the inner courtyard, with
an aging woman who remembered him
from the very beginning.
Even if it wasn’t lit.
Even if she wasn’t there.