This season of life
holds a harvest of memories
and hope for new beginnings.
Usually, my heart straddles the breadth
of that, though not comfortably.
the poignancy of what has changed
startles with stark surprise.
Among the throng of yesterday’s
trick-or-treaters, the wonder-women,
ghouls, and super-heroes,
was a tiny young man,
proudly presented as ninja- mutant turtle
and his brown eyes wonder-wide.
His father waited on the steps below
“Trick or treat!”,
as he toddled in the front door.
He looked past the bowl of candy
I held and peered into the empty
dining and living rooms.
“Where IS everybody?” he asked
in his four year old soprano.
The father and I chuckled,
after they left and I shut the door
against the clear, black night
I thought of who is no longer in my home.
Teenage son out with friends and
more and more independent;
my other son living in another town;
my deceased husband and love of my life;
my former husband,
charting his own future path.
The house was once full of others.
And yes, sometimes I too ask,