About His Person

A postcard stamped,

unwritten, but franked,

a pocket size diary slashed with a pencil

from March twenty-fourth to the first of April.

A brace of keys for a mortise lock,

an analogue watch, self winding, stopped.

A final demand

in his own hand,

a rolled up note of explanation

planted there like a spray carnation

but beheaded, in his fist.

A shopping list.

A givaway photgraph stashed in his wallet,

a kepsake banked in the heart of a locket.

no gold or silver,

but crowning one finger

a ring of white unweathered skin.

That was everything.