his chair,
in front of the tv.
an ashtray stand, a dinner
tray.
his pipe,
tobacco, a lighter.
silver that made a noise
when it snapped open,
then closed.
the imprint of his weight
upon
the shredded
grey cushion.
three of us could gather
in that spot
when he
left.
sometimes one of us would
pick up
the pipe and lower our
voices,
pretend
he was still there,
saying things like get
out of the way,
I can't see the t.v. .
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