Passing, I looked inside, saw that family, remembered,
their stony group staring at those white china plates,
no one speaking a word, the sound of fork tines on ceramicware ,
a metal clink and that hollow scraping along.
Theirs was hardly the song of wondering
how was your day chat, lively talk about this and that,
no laughter, missing most joy, the warmth
of blood ties joined and smiles echoing all around,
gone ghosted voices forever now.
I have passed that house, kept on this road home
a long time, and I can see that glimmer sits there
on the horizon’s thin line, the sun blazing low and down the miles
to shimmer and mingle, close of the grand setting, place
of everything past, trailing to the west.
* * * * *
Aloha #WriterFriday, I hope you are ready for a good Labor Day weekend. Today’s #WritingPrompt is
walks of life
Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece on your site and link back to me, or simply leave it as a comment below. I would love to read it : )
