Empty Nest Ghazal by Sally Thomas

Empty Nest Ghazal

After lunch, she moves from room to room,
To sidestep the tail-twitching afternoon.

Someone’s left a sock behind the door,
First furtive ambush of the afternoon.

Crusted mascara wand beside the sink:
Dry bones, the dessicated afternoon.

All useless spoor of time she sweeps away.
Still time stalks her through the afternoon.

Always the silent house, and hours till dinner –
Too many simmering hours of afternoon.

She sits to write. Love, Mother. She can sign
An unsent letter every afternoon.

by Sally Thomas

Twitter: @SallyThomasNC


Editor’s Note
: This poem uses the repetition of the ghazal form to great effect, mirroring the endless hours of missing a loved one who has gone away with delicate (but also relentless) sorrow.