Resurrecting a poem I wrote in 2004 when my boys were away on a trip.

Too Quiet

It’s too quiet in here
No voice of boy, no smile of teen
The scene cries for the absence
Waits, expectant, like me
Like it would only be an hour to hope
Like it would only be an hour
I miss you

It’s too quiet in here
No impish acts, no sticks in the house
The empty is me
Loves without limit or restraint
Like it will be only a while till you’re here
Like it will only be a while
Come home

It’s too quiet in here
No chocolate stains, no eyes on ice cream
The silence shatters glass
Reaches across the miles to where you are
Like it could only be a prayer and you’d appear
Like it could only be a prayer
It’s quiet

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