a/n: John Watson leaves Baker Street one year after "The Reichenbach Fall".

Dedicated to medcat, Ennui Enigma, Jack, JAL and MLC. Thank you.

I do not own Sherlock and companions. 221B format devised by KCS

Moving On

He stepped through the doorway,

That's all that it took;

A silent farewell,

In one lingering look.

Not at all sentimental,

No heart worn on sleeve;

And yet, quite reluctant

To turn round and leave.

Those objects, familiar,

Unmoved since he'd left;

Lost and abandoned;

A room, now bereft.

~0~

A place for each item;

Not one rearranged.

Nothing seemed altered

Yet all things had changed.

A smile traced in bullets,

A pale grinning skull,

An old leather couch,

Far too still; too peaceful.

A scarf draped precisely where

It was last dropped.

The room marked the moment when

Everything stopped.

~0~

He almost heard footsteps

Which paced to and fro;

The greatest detective, with brain

In full flow.

Heard protests of boredom,

A violin play;

The clink of an ever replenished

Tea tray.

Glimpsed coat tails, each dark and

Exuberant swirl;

A figure sprawled out on the couch;

A black curl.

~0~

The year had passed swiftly,

Yet lasted so long.

Not at all sentimental?

He may have been wrong.

There were patients to tend to,

Appointments to keep;

Old soldiers and war tempered doctors

Don't weep.

A small flat on Baker Street;

Time to move on;

The reason he'd called it his home

Had long gone.

~0~

As echoes and thoughts from the past

Intertwined;

He left,

Leaving what he most treasured

Behind.

~0~