the Empty Chair

 

The Empty Chair

 

The empty chair,
No battle drawn,
My father’s there,
Thirty years gone,

 

My mother died,
One year ago,
She would confide,
She loved him so.

 

We’d sit and talk,
My Mom and I,
Her hands would balk,
I fed her pie.

 

But, now she’s gone,
I see one chair,
Out in the lawn,
My father’s there!

 

A boy will walk,
To see this man,
To sit and talk,
With no demand.

 

“We men won’t bow”.
“We do not bend”
“Hold your wife now.”
“Unto the end!”

 

Thanksgiving Day,
All wishes willed,
No empty chair,
My cup is filled!

 

Peter Lowell Paulson
November 6, 2013