Solitude
The old man wept at his wife leaving for the conveyance home…
She was brittle now and age had ravished her body and mind…
He had acquired great solitude, which was not welcoming...
It was not welcoming, nor was it kind…
He was now a vacant, hollow king sitting upon a lonely throne…
His queen and loyal subjects had left him all alone…
He was left with nothing but his memories, and just a little time…
This solitude wasn’t welcoming…
It was not welcoming, nor was it kind…
Copyright © Darrell Hoover | Year Posted 2012
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