Love at the Empty Chair

You still hang their stockings. Folded hands. December air. There's a crack

in every care. Since the year they weren't there. You stir cocoa in the kitchen.

Mug set for the one who's gone. His picture on the fridge door.

Still smiling like he's coming home. Christmas at the empty chair. You lay a

plate. You say a prayer. Name them softly. Feel them near.

Love keeps lighting candles here. Even though your arms are bare. Love keeps sitting

at the empty chair. You still fix his crooked collar. On that jacket

by the door. Talk to him at midnight. Like you always did before.