Contributor: Richard Schnap

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A weak light filtered in
As he looked around his room
At things that once were others

A blue shirt in the shape
Of someone else’s bones
Slowly melting into his

A book with creased pages
As if read over and over
So not a word was missed

A pewter statuette
Of the majestic Eiffel Tower
Rising like a tiny grey dream

Then he wondered just what
They all meant to their owners
Now unknown or underground

And whether whoever
They would pass to in time
Would feel the same way


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Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.