Old and empty rooms,
The places in my heart
For near forgotten memories
Of now departed friends.
Random thoughts float
Drifting as a dust mote
Through narrow beams of light,
For a moment, bright,
By unseen hand tossed,
Until in shadow lost.
I sit midst aging memory
Like well worn furniture,
Draped in white linen,
Vague, detail hidden.
Throw open the curtains,
Let in the light.
Banish thoughts of gloom. Away!
Throw open the windows.
Let in the air,
Fresh with scents of a new day.
Repair for new guests.
Prepare to be blessed.
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Comments about this poem (Empty Rooms by Greg Davidson )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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Henry David Thoreau
(12 July 1817 – 6 May 1862)
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