Empty Room

By David De Jong

Scanning this empty room quietly in despair,
While memories reciprocate throughout the air.
Photos of children dancing in autumn’s fresh leaves,
All the colors of fall, stuck to their tiny sleeves.
Elegant feathers, gifted by birds on the trail,
Iridescent blue, crimsons, and earthly brown shale.
Antlers found shed in the grove of winters gone by,
Cast off for new growth, without a question of why.
A flag from a war fought in lands deserts away,
Carried back to freedom, where it stands on display.
Cards too precious, too proud, to hide in the drawers,
Full of; crayon scribbles, stickers, and tear smudged cores.
Books leaning on the shelves, scrambling for more space,
Tired of their work, their struggles, yet expounding grace.
Flower petals plucked with small, loving, finger tips,
Collected during one of many, backyard trips.
More photographs, moments paused eternal in time.
Second hand buttons, Grandma bought with a just dime.
Now my heart’s been lifted, shifted from its dull gloom,
Captivated by the love, surrounding this room.

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