An Empty Chair
Something that was there
But isn’t
I stand patiently
Waiting for your return
Sometimes I hear your footsteps on the stair
Or I can hear you walking about
On the floor above
I hear your voice calling for me
I hear your laughter
When busy playing alone
Or I can even hear you
Drawing quietly in your room
So many nights I waited past midnight
Sick with worry
But each time you returned home
Safe and well
Sometimes I even catch sight of you
Just a glance
As you disappear behind a tree
Playing hide and seek
You were so special to me
It is hard to believe you are not here
The years pass quickly
Your chair, like my heart, remains empty
December 20, 2018
6 comments:
How the children we remember become ghosts of the living – the adults who are not those children any more. I think you have written it perfectly. Thank you.
Each tribute you write is so beautifully touching and anyone who has lost a loved one is reminded too of their own grief. (In the last sentence I think there is 'typo' where you intended the word 'reminds" should be "remains")
Your link should be THIS, Annell:
https://somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com/2018/12/an-empty-chairimaginary-gardens-with.html
Not THIS:
https://somethingsithinkabout-annell-annell.blogspot.com/
Your poem is heart-rending, but your long refusal to link properly so that people don't have to scan your whole blog to find the right post, is why I never come here anymore.
Fireblossom. Thank you for educating me, I am a "techno-peasant." I didn't know. Please forgive, now that I do know, I will make every effort to get it right.
This is a wonderful way to use the prompt of an animal gone... to make the loss personal.
An empty chair is such a strong metaphor for loss. Your words brought both smiles and tears.
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