The White Shirt

When I am gone

When I am gone

I want you to have my white shirt.

It is thin, from many washings.

It is falling apart, I wore it out.

The things we love, we wear out. This is worth noticing.

White rags to clean your sink, the shirt is worth nothing.

I want you to have it when I’m gone.

A clean sink, a summer eve, a listening ear, a flash and I’m gone.

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