The Empty House

This is the
Darkness and the
Silence of the night, when
The cat lies asleep quietly
Twitching and a car engine
Rasps outside.  Sleep eludes me
Like an old friend who
Wants no greeting and
Flees to see you. How
Am I to live in such a
Climate that is
Beset with dangers and
No friends? The
Fabric of my life is
Rent in twain and
Piece it as I try, it
Makes no difference - the
Curtain is not whole
And can never be.  I am
Good at being sad, accustomed
To this given air and
To my pain - I
Know no other thing and so
I live anxiously in hope
Of gain and good things
Still to come, I am
Welcomed home
To an empty house and must
Fill it as I can.
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