The music is over
No guests to fill these rooms
The hired help long gone
Intruding silence looms
Long widowed by her husband
She's used to being alone
Grandchildren now grown
Seldom visit her home
Patiently her flowers wait
Shrubs and vegetables beckon
Unable to stand up straight
Tired old bones stricken
In God her Faith remains
and so too will she
Stay in her weathered house
Down by the sea...
*I wrote this in 1995 a few years before my dearly departed Nana left her home, but only for a brief time.
Anna Kelly
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/empty-rooms/
