“ The Man ” ~ of two glasses ~

He sits to face

An empty space,

Across a table

Where time ago

A chair left bare,

Yet so reflects

A face he loved,

Remains aglow,

Upon a glass

Of pale rosé…

 

Each forlorn day

In vain he stares,

With musing’s play,

One can near feel

Her presence there, 

His mind will trace

Upon the empty chair,

Memory of her face                                                           

That will not part

That special space,

Fixed in his heart…

 

Alas the man

Said of two glasses,

Sits so to face

That empty space

As time so passes,

But for a moment dwells,

On memory only he can tell!