In his flat.
In his second flat.
The hippie house.
My cars, first and second.
A houseboat.
That old country hotel with no towels.
On our beach.
The caravan out on the lookout point.
At my parent’s house, my single room.
The island, resort, nook down by the river.
A city park.
Camping.
Quieter now and in the dark.
You still seemed near.
But you were gone.
Left,
moved on.

Written by Carol Caughey – Perth, Western Australia, Australia

Feature Photo by Rachel Claire

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