Who has not stared in disbelief
upon the stark and empty chair
which now, in view of utter grief,
seems cold and cruel and bitter-bare?
The open wound cannot congeal,
left unattended through despair.
Observe the slightest brush can peel
and pull upon the closing scar
regardless of the look or feel.
This pain, in loss, however far
removed from tragedy’s dark spree;
a ship lodged fast upon this spar,
may yet release from starboard lee
down tributaries to the sea.
The Gadfly
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Submission Name: In View of Utter Grief
