Monday, December 18, 2006

the lamp by the chair

Often, as I sat in the old leather chair
in the den at
her sometimes sad home
I felt her looking past me to the space
where my
father had kept company,
the television reflecting the lamp by the chair
by the space where he had been.
She would look at his absence in the
dark chair
not noticing us who tried to bring the light to her.


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