The Empty Chair: A Poem by Jayashree Bhattacherjee

With streaks of silver in his hair
He sat relaxing on his rocker recliner
Without care he rocked it back and forth
She snuggled beside him peacefully, full of mirth
At dusk, a glazed verandah, when it had just rained
The smell of lilacs, wet earth, in the silence all confusion chained
She served him lemon tea prepared with a touch of love and care
He sipped it happily as quietly swayed his rocking chair.
Their fulfilling days were going on in this way
Until one day suddenly, in an instant, he passed away.
She refused to believe, as she gazed at his chair
That never again shall she see him rocking there.
Now a void fills her heart as she stares
With quivering breath at the forlorn, vacant chair
Sitting there alone as she sheds her scalding tears
A gentle breeze blowing, she feels his fingers through her hair
She looks for him, but no, he is not there
Instead, there is just that empty chair
Years roll on, now she treasures as a sacred thing his beloved’s favorite chair
A prized possession, from which her soul none can tear.