Empty Frame

The widow

standing in her closet.

Full of button downs and corduroy trousers.

overwhelmed with memories

yet still so empty.

I look at the photo

you left behind.

The widow’s empty feeling and sorrow

consumes me.

in the photo, I only see the pain

You caused me.

Surrounded by her husband's scent

and the grass stains of last sunday’s picnic.

The children are peering in

looking at their world.

crumble around them.