The Empty Room

The Ragtag Daily Prompt this morning: EMPTY ROOM

This room should be empty.
It shouldn't be bulging with bits of you,
the evidence of our life together, scattered
on every flat surface. Your notebook
your pens, your jottings on the calendar.

It shouldn't still hold all the colours of us.
That mahogany desk you wanted so bad;
I remember your satisfied smile
when the auctioneer shouted "Sold
to number 68, there in the blue jacket."
I remember how we had to abandon
our old chest of drawers in the garage
to fit your new purchase in its place.

This empty room should be silent now;
it shouldn't still ring with the sound of us,
like this silly clock I was so fond of, even if
it chirped all hours and never did
keep proper time, not even after
two pricey trips to the clock-maker.
I can still hear your exasperated sighs
as you swathed it in a blanket every night.

This empty room will never be vacant;
when together we chose that wallpaper
and together we hung it, laughing all the while,
not quite matching the patterns.
"Gives the room character," you said.
And I pretended to like that idea.
It still rings with our long discussions
the arguments, the admissions, the apologies.

Bits of your little hobbies wave at me
like little flags; the trinkets on your desk
testify of your tastes, your skills, your plans.
Even the Post-its you stuck on the mirror
remind me how you lived – really lived – here,
how you once filled every room. 
Now each thing in its way laments your absence
and the emptiness of this room.

13 thoughts on “The Empty Room

  1. A gazillion trinkets (and other reminders), while treasured, each and every one, do not make the room any more full, does it? I’d like to think that My Beloved Sandra will write (or at least think) something like this after I’m no longer here.

    Beautiful work.

    Liked by 1 person

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