Poem: Empty Nest-ness | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram

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Poem: Empty Nest-ness



A text with only two letters makes no sense.
His room devoid of frantic stink does not make me smile as I pass the door.
The car standing motionless in the driveway obstructs my passage and my thinking.
Dinner on a paper plate near the tv supplies no taste.
Fall leaves turn and so does my stomach as I walk away from too big a house.
I hate RAP music but miss the fight the beat always wrought.
Orthodontic rubber bands found behind the couch have lost their elastic.
His stash box is missing and so is my constant vigilance.
No flow of young studs and sexy teens parade by our virtual stream.
Thank god I’m no longer responsible…or was I ever?

Each trip past the High School a flash back.
The tree house welcomes only bees and pine needles.
The sink upstairs is clean, and still clean, and still.
A bar for breakfast is replaced by fine Catskill bourbon.
Dad stacks the wood…alone.
Every blade of grass misses his zippy mower passing.
Less means I must make more of myself.
We both wonder in the world detached.
Thank god I’m no longer responsible…or was I ever?

The neighbors gather for reasons too familiar.
Toasts to time begrudgingly given.
Casual stories about children who are huge.
Shhh, I could read a book, or not.
Run naked while flying up and down the stairs.
Eat moldy left overs over the sink.
Why are you hunting for clothes in his room?
A hurricane swirls inside my chest.
Where complexity meets finality, right now.
Thank god, our ability to respond is all we’ve ever had.

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