Ritual Poem by Gert Strydom

Tonight at sunset
it feels as if you will be back
and I prepare a place
at the table for you,
as if you are going to be there
to eat with me.

I am silly,
as I know that you
are visiting your cousin tonight,
but the dogs are restless
and the black cat
climbs on my lap
and I put two plates in place.

l’Envoi
With an additional chair, glass and candle
I wait till dark
and the food is already cold
when I eat it later
and tomorrow when you are back
still feels far and distant.