The boys have gone back to school in Denmark and our home in Dhaka seems empty and far too quiet.
Empty
Drifting through rooms of unmade beds,
blankets pushed aside,
single socks hiding.
Ball still rolling towards a corner.
Echoes behind closed doors
I expectantly open.
Sense the closing of exits as I enter.
No one there, though cat,
with her six senses and seven lives
follows expectantly,
seeking, like me.
Meowing a question,
sniffing the warm, head-shaped indentation in a pillow.
I wake,
and you’re already gone.
Dhaka 2015
Oh, I sense the feelings, beautifully expressed, no matter how old they are these sons, when they leave they fill the rooms with emptiness. Much love.
Yes, it was awful taking down the Christmas decorations after they’d gone…
Beautiful poem, Rilla. We have a daughter leaving us today and this poem resonates loud and clear!
Hi Rilla, yes captured the end of my daughter’s holiday visit beautifully.
I know that feeling all too well! Perfectly described Rilla. 🙂
So sad, we all, who have been in the same situation, remember that empty feeling. You have my sympathy. Well written.