Six days after she left
nothing but dust and crumbs remained.

He still rose early, still sat in his office
at the keyboard, often until noon or later
but –more often than not –
simply sat at the keyboard
and produced nothing.

This lack of productivity
was not unknown to him,
though in the past
he’d always been able
to count on her return.

Things had changed.

Poets And Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #35

~ Change Happens ~


13 thoughts on “Widower

  1. I agree with Rosemary about that sucker punch, Ron. I love the symbolism of the dust and crumbs, the unproductive keyboard, and the overall feeling of emptiness, the hole left by someone whose return one could always count on. A poem with a story that leaves me with so many questions.

  2. The implication that she has left (and returned) before hints at a complicated relationship. But the pain of that last loss in undeniable.

  3. Somewhere in my poetic archives, as a new widow at 45, I penned a line “don’t they know it’s scary out there, being alone when you’ve been half of a pair”. I appreciate your touching, heart-tugging write.

  4. Poor guy. I want to reach into the ink and give him a gentle hug. What a terrible situation to be in… alone.

    I really like how you showed us everything that is happening to the speaker without telling us.

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