Fasten the windows, and place
The key in the box for good.
Tomorrow I leave this place,
Just as I knew I would.
The bunny she used to hug;
Her bed, and the little pink comb;
The threadbare place in the rug–
To her, at least, it was home.
God, as you carefully scan
Our efforts which total up nil,
Forgive me the tear, if you can,
Which I leave in the dust on the sill.
by Ray Romine Wednesday, March 25, 1953
