EMPTY NEST

She stares into the empty nest,

and empty space stares back,

at her.

Silence beats loudly,

like a ticking clock,

or a racing heart.

The empty shell left,

the receptacle,

the occupants scattered.

And with them

all the promises,

of the things she’ll tell them,

teach them,

advise them,

one of these days.

Too late.

Whatever’s told is told,

skills taught and hearts honed,

and what wisdom is imparted,

she’ll have to hope

is enough.

©Roisin Duffy

TITLE: EMPTY NEST

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