2/14/11

An empty closet where a coat once hung,

A shelf once rich with books now stands agape,

Clean, barren, surfaces where work was done,

Dry crumbs from savored meals on unwashed plates,

All screens gone dark, all music left un-played,

Lamps coat the corners with unneeded light,

Discarded glasses stare off into space,

A clock still ticks, yet no one asks the time,

The windows, shut and breezeless, waste their views,

The chairs, like silent mourners, stand alone,

Though all appears familiar, without you,

A house may still remain, but not a home.