The Old Man & The Empty Chair

He sat alone sipping his tea.

His hair stood in angry gray tufts.

His eyes wandered all about the room,

everything reminding him of me.

I watched from a short distance

I saw the dark sadness in his eyes.

It is a look that I…oh I know so well.

For it is within the mirror; this look I recognize.

I watched without really looking.

For I felt, and know of the gaping wound of his heart.

I knew that of this moment that he lived on memories,

Which by silent death from his presence did sorely part.

He sipped the last of his tea; he wiped fresh tears from his eyes.

He fingered gently the gold wedding band on his left hand.

He looked up to the ceiling; he mouthed a few unheard words…

And then with silent reverence, he dropped his head in a heavy sigh.

Time held no meaning, for today was just another day closer to tomorrow.

I watched as he dropped a few bills and a sprinkle of coins on the table, and I too sighed.

I watched with understanding as he stared briefly at the empty space across the table.

With a last look around the now crowded, but empty room, he reached for his cane.

On legs that shook he stood and slowly walked to the register to pay.

And I…Oh I in knowing his pain began for him to ever so softly pray.

J. Allen Wilson © 10/17/2009

Reflections from the Four Seasons Steak House Belton, SC.