Overlooking The Wood Poem by Greg Weber

overlooking the wood
there was a hole
in my bedroom
gone unfilled/
there was a place i looked to…
to where my heart sat
untended and in my mind
i quietly ached for you/
it was a corner so bare
by the windows
overlooking the wood
and i would stare at
that blank space
a zombie like deadness again and again every second once more/
as days become weeks
and so on the years filtered by but never left like laundry on lines twisting
in the wind
and i sit in my room
longing for what was before/
i moved my desk to fill the hole
an old wood sturdy utilitarian piece spartan in design simply small and commonly complete
it holds all my memories
and where i write of you
all hours until i fill… replete and then write some more
me and my desk and you overflow that once empty hole poised perfect to see your trees
now i am full and content in my room my sweet baby
now i can write of you to you
and the space you loved
at our desk in the filled in hole.