Vacating Visitor

Strange that your room is empty now like a tooth that's been pulled as a hollow shell darkened up and devoid of what filled it once just a socket to tangle the tongue Strange that the brewing of coffee has stopped like a race that's completed in finish lines when all of the runners relax, unwind and unroll the adrenaline wheel Strange that a bird of metal wings could fly you away with the laughter you bring to barely a speck in the blue southern sky to be viewed by the earth as a hawk Strange that our visits are always too short like reverberations from musical notes one strains to still hear after songs have been sung and laughter lives on in refrains...