Emily Strauss

Piece of Him

A two-inch long, rectangular piece of surgical
Steel, lightweight, slightly concave, with a thin
Slot cut into the middle is all I have left.
It hangs on the door handle from a faded white

Cotton string intricately knotted through the slot
Then doubled over on a long loop, on the handle
Of the door, bangs against it each time I leave
A nuisance really, I generally ignore it except

When I want to recall old love, a genuine body part
From a broken arm screwed together, a piece
Of flesh, the rest long gone, nothing left but this.
He is melted to dust now, faded but for this relic

Taken when the bone healed, carefully saved
All this long time, now it is strung like a pendant
In a jewelry box, next to a baby tooth, lock of hair
Inventory of forgotten bodies and lost souls. 

Emily Strauss has an M.A. in English, but is self-taught in poetry. Over 100 of her poems appear in dozens of online venues and in anthologies. The natural world is generally her framework; she often focuses on the tension between nature and humanity, using concrete images to illuminate the loss of meaning between them. She is a semi-retired teacher living in California.