An Empty Chair
An Empty Chair
Behold, that golden sunset’s
Reddish tints of yellow
Fade unwillingly beyond those darkened trees
Where stood so many of our boys and theirs in days gone by
In their youths, their laughter-
Then to battles across the seas
To die.
They died, hopes faded, dreams disbursed, flowers grew.
Today we respect their deaths,
Those whose names adorn white headstones and others.
The sunset fades, night begins
And summer breezes rush across sea waters,
To where, who knows?
But, here where once youthful smiles flashed quickly,
Is a creaking door,
An empty chair
In which no one sits anymore.
A W.C.Hull Poem © 1998-2022 -343 (C)
Copyright © W.C. Hull | Year Posted 2022
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