Me and You
I’ve put all the clothes I’d wear
Into the wardrobe –
hung them on hangers,
brushed out the creases,
closed the door.
Placed the tiny
key on the dressing-table –
for you
when
the house abandoned
echoing and empty of me.
There will always be parts
to take out, look at, admire.
Feel the weight of fabric, examine
seamstress sown hems
and cuffs.
Silks, tweeds and velvet.
You can hang them
over the hook
stand back – consider
what
they’d look like –
If I put them on.
Stella McHugh – Writer 