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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Daily Cascade
#1109376 added February 27, 2026 at 2:37pm
Restrictions: None
That Thing...
Prompt:
Write a story or poem about love without using the word “love.”


---------
That Thing...After You've Gone

It once began quietly
not with trumpets and fanfare
but with your soft smile
as you turned the doorknob

then you came home, totally.

It was your plate I set at the table,
and the last slice of pie
I slid across without a word,
and the light I left in the hallway

for you to not stumble, but see.

It was our hands finding each other
in the dark of the room,
our thumbs tracing circles
as if drawing courage from skin

and from our sweet words.

It smells like rain on warm pavement,
like bread rising before dawn,
like your sweater
hanging in my closet

long after you’ve gone.

And that thing is still staying
when its leaving would be easier.
It is listening
past the sharp edge of loss

while I keep hearing you inside my mind.

It grows in small, stubborn places
between tiny prayers,
and what was shared,
and in the hush after my tears

as if I've stopped breathing.

It does not ask to be named.
It simply keeps showing up,
again and again,
like the tide faithful to the shore

like maybe, you're still here with me, at home.


.




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