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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Moving On



I set your place just like I do

Across from mine, on placemat blue

It’s not just habit, I’ve not forgot

That you’re not here to take your spot

I don’t care that folks think it strange

Or think I’m not accepting change

I’m eating dinner on my own

Quite used to sitting all alone

But having plate across from me

Exactly where you’re s’posed to be

Brings me such comfort, peace of mind

Each night when I’m about to dine

I pour a glass, for me, just half

I might forget, and have a laugh

By pouring some in your glass too

Some white for me and red for you

In dimmed light over simple fare

I love that feeling you’re still there

It shouldn’t cause such consternation

Having quiet conversation

For how can I diminish presence

Remove from life that effervescence

That you brought home to me each night

No matter what, your mood was light

For dinner was our sacred time

To slough off day of toil and grime

And though you’re gone, I want to know

If things at work were fast or slow

Just how it went, and you did too

So that is what I’m going to do

Set plate for you, until the night

To leave in cupboard, feels all right

A new routine will take its place

But not because you’ve been erased

Your setting gone, like setting sun

Without a word, we’ve both moved on…

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