The Mess

During the visit,
there’s something about
the clothes strewn on the floor
soon to be dumped in the washer,
wallet lying on the dresser,
cell plugged in,
bed comforter in shambles

because the messiness
means he’s home.

Now with air miles accumulated
back in the familiar time zone,
his room shines, neatness
grating on my nerves,
silence like receiving
the cold shoulder.

My hand pulls back the comforter,
tousling, creating wrinkles and lumps
in the navy fabric as though rumpled
from a restful night’s sleep,
then I pull some old shirts from the
closet, tossing them on the floor
just so I can pretend the good-byes
hadn’t found freedom.

Lauren Scott (c)

25 thoughts on “The Mess

    1. Oh, you’re absolutely right, Marina! And even though the silence is deafening for a day or two, it’s worth those awesome visits. Thanks for your beautiful comment, my friend. Hugs xoxoxo

    1. Thanks for your kind words, Robbie. Our son left a few days ago after a great visit. And then this poem was born. 🙂 The goodbye’s are always emotional, but the visits are worth it. ❤️

  1. I can relate to this, Lauren. I clean my daughter’s room because when she comes, she comes with her hubby and two darling kids. But I basically keep everything she left in the room. She feels at home when she come. I still call it “Mercy’s room.” 🙂

    1. I’m glad you understand my feelings here, Miriam. Our son and daughter’s room haven’t changed much either, their photos still hang, and things they can’t take right now because of room. The only change is the addition of a treadmill. 🥰

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