Another piece of emotive poetry that I wrote — partly based on a pair of dreams that I had on successive nights.

I sit all alone at the table
From where we all shared
In the good and the bad
And the lights all around
Flashes of flickering memory
Brief images caught in time
He sat all alone at the table
With the plastic spoon in hand
Awaited with baited breath
The serving of soup was his
A golden clock chimed three
Toothless smiles back to back
She sat all alone at the table
Idolatry dressed in pink ivory
Tributes from a thousand voices
One hand holding the other
Until the darkness wept dawn

We sit all alone at the table

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!