Sitting on the front porch
with an empty chair on side
watching the sun die
old grandpa thought of his
wife, the mother of his six
children.
She no longer sits by his side.
She no longer eats with him.
She neither prays in morning
nor sleep at night.
She is gone now, far gone
by this month of the year.
She promised him in her prime
to take the pilgrimage together
once they get old enough. But
they never got old enough and
She left:
Herself, Him,
children, grandchildren, and
precious home-
all behind.
She left without telling or asking
this time. I wonder if she had a choice:
Would she have chosen him again for
the second time?
Perhaps, we will never know.But
Grandpa sure would. He holds her
photograph all day long. As
if she is hers still.
