empty chairs

holes around the tables

as new days dawn,

and we’re still here,

I keenly feel the absences,

the holes where those I care about

no longer walk this earth,

I sit on the big screened porch at the cabin

and look down the tables flanked by empty chairs,

and I feel the emptiness of the chairs,

the holes once filled by family and friends

who have now died to this reality,

each time my children and spouses, and grandchildren,

leave again for their own lives,

the chairs around the common table also empty,

and I’m sad with the rightness of flying the nest,

and I also joy that other tables can fill and center joy

while I feel the holes around mine center loss,

how wonderful that I still have a partner

with whom to share the meal, the loss,

and the joy that every moment alive deserves to feel.

by Henry H. Walker

December 28, ’13