Empty Rooms

A poem

Tom Kane
The Lark
Mar 9, 2024

--

you were my anchor
keeping me steady amid stormy seas
now I drift, lost without your guiding light
our bed cold, your side untouched
pillow still curved with the shape of your head

I wear your shirts like armour
fraying seams, fading scent
your memory etched into every thread
the house creaks and groans
even the walls mourn your absence
I walk from room to room
brush fingers over chairs and tables we chose together

autumn leaves blanket the ground outside
I watch them fall alone
your voice still echoes in the quiet spaces
I wrap it around me like a shawl
my heart is a well of grief
each tear ripples the surface
until we meet again
on some distant shore

--

--

Tom Kane
The Lark

Retired Biochemist, Premium Ghostwriter, Top Medium Writer,Editor of Plainly Put and Poetry Genius publications on Medium