He sits alone in his easy chair
The house so empty and still
Trying to think up chores to do
His long, lonely hours to fill



Winding the clocks; watering the plants
And a couple of bills to pay
Checking the mailbox; feeding the cat
Take such a little part of his day



The matching chair sits empty now
Her sewing box and mending there
On the table just the way she left them
With the reading glasses used for spare



He gazes longingly at her photograph
As the tears well in his eyes
Still grieving from that sad-filled day
When they said their last good-byes



So many times, they had talked about
How one couldn't get along without the other
It never crossed his mind that she'd go first
And leave him never able to recover



He sits and bides his time waiting for the day
When he joins his beloved one in death
For he knows he can never be whole again
Until he draws that last, long breath



Kathleen McCoy Eldridge©
January 14, 2008
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