The chair sits empty by the window,
She watched them come and go.
No one knew how lonely her days,
But now One thing they know.
Their hearts are empty and lonely,
Evening shadow cast by the light,
Of a woman who patiently waited,
Is now no longer in sight.
The glow that came from the window,
Each evening without fail,
Has been replaced by darkness,
"Why didn’t we visit?" they wail.
The chair still sits where she left it,
And if you take time to look.
A petal from each bouquet received,
She saved lovingly in a book.
How her heart leapt with happiness,
When a visitor came her way.
Her smile would outshine the sun,
As she talked of a better day.
A picture would unfold as she spoke,
Of her days long in the past.
When family filled now empty rooms,
Times she thought would last.
Where her garden once grew with beauty,
Is now covered with weeds.
Her hoe lying where she left it that day,
Beside it a packet of seeds.
Though she was slight in stature,
The chair shows plainly her use of it,
Where a quilt is draped across its back,
Not having the time to finish it.
No more will she feel the dew on plants,
No picture will come from her brush.
No more rare visits from those she loved,
No sound only, ...a gentle hush.
Norma Marek
3-6-04
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