Emptiness
By Mary Harrison

Day after
day or
suddenly

my heart
feels
the void --

my son's plane
disappearing
into clouds,

blue flying
eagle blanket
on a vacant
bed,

his purple
mountain bike
hanging

by a hook
on a wall
of the garage,

his vacant
shoes after
he shot
himself,

a catch
in my throat,

a scream
in my gut,
longing

to hear him
say my
name,

a search
for the
incomplete

self....

Emptiness,
is a
pauper

stumbling
down the
alley

at night,
holding out
a cup

unaware
there's
a coin

in her pocket.

In honor and loving memory of Scott Harrison...