SITTING ALL ALONE

Dried, dead flowers
on a mahogany end table,
she couldn’t throw them out - yet.
Silent, quiet rugs everywhere,
she, sitting there all alone
in what was once their living room.
She was gazing without really
seeing the gray drizzle outside
on the other side of
their large picture window.
She has been spending
much of her time sitting there
with herself on their couch,
sitting there in their big house,
half empty since he died too soon,
twenty four days ago today,
gray loneliness inside,
along with the shrill scream
she let out that afternoon
as she heard him fall
in their bathroom - a sudden
heart attack - dead before
he hit the floor as she
was sitting there all alone
waiting on their couch,
waiting for his return.

© Andy Costello,

Reflections, 2008