Empty

Take comfort
in the memory
of empty cafe tables
where you used to
sip
warm
brewed lattes
or in unfilled
restaurant seats
where you used to
taste
dishes sautéed,
grilled
with vegetables
and meat
whose origins
you can only imagine.
Someone will
fill them.
Someone will
taste them.
Someone will
spend them
looking outside the window
of the bustling city streets
where you will spend
walking with
tired shoes
and
tired clothes.

You will nor be missed.

 


Poem No. 1 for this week’s poetry theme, “on summer I toil, on summer, I dream.”

Starting last week, I’ve began releasing poems rooted under a single theme, to be explored in an entire week. These are just to fill in the void that will bloom in this blog due to the gaping mouth of the busy world chewing me alive. Hope you enjoy!

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