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The Space

My Table is Bare

Grief is such a lonely place

An unchartered wilderness, journeyed alone

Unsharable, isolating

Far from familiar ground  

No one knows the despair

Not even I, I guess

For it comes in waves and ripples

When I least expect

Bringing endless tears

And pain of strangulation

Overwhelming me at times

‘til I lose all sensation.  

Some people come close

With words of comfort and a smile

Their sympathy and kindness

Form a blanket, for a while

It all fades though when I shut the door

Hoping to find you there

But things are just as I left them

My table is bare.

Breda Trimble © 2009

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