An Empty Cup

There are trees on either side of the road
That curve in like cupped hands
With long, skinny fingers
The dirt road is littered with brown, crinkled leaves
That ricochet down with each gust of wind

Down the road sits a house,
Empty save for a man and a woman
At opposite ends of a long, mahogany kitchen table
The man covers his mouth and nose with his cupped hands
While his wife taps her foot in anticipation--
Or maybe it’s just the cup of coffee that she chugged out of habit

The floor is swept,
The dishes are clean,
The house is calm,
But the kids aren’t there

And of what use is a home
At the end of the road
With trees on either side
That curve in like cupped hands
With long, skinny fingers
If the kids can’t create a cacophony
When they stomp on the brown, crinkled leaves

Of what use is the long mahogany kitchen table
If only the man and the woman will sit at opposite ends
Wondering where to go from here,
What to do alone
In an empty nest.