Saturday, January 14, 2017
As we sit on our daily couch
There is no space, only love
Our fingers mingle, weave as they meet
The empty space that sits alone
Was not always empty, as if a hole
Our cherished children once squeezed the space
Huddled in a warm embrace
Cuddled and connected our warm bodies
Inserted their innocence as we sat cozy.
First one flew out from her nest
There was then our next best
Warm and fuzzy Jazz warmed the seat
Connected our every heart beat
All we have left is folklore
An empty seat no one to dote
Only the multitudes of TV remotes
Across the mountains of devices
I feel your breath and hear your heart pulsate.
as our hands reach across the empty seat.