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)