It all relates to space of time and place; empty chairs around a Christmas table, the dishes never taken out from stacks within the cupboard, the tupperware needed to hold the ample leftovers that mark amounts of uneaten food in people missing to indulge.
Some are living in another land, filling space at tables far away. Some are gone forever from the earth, and I worry that they’ll not have something quite as grand as our pork tenderloins smothered in shrimp and mushrooms. I eat their portion of the cookies in their honor, displacing sweet tidbits of life from one spot to another and wonder where it should have been had it not come home in me.
Familiar voices come through on phone calls, sounds filling some spots in the empty spaces in our homes; transcending space of place within the space of time. Some voices, though unheard still fill a space of sorts–the one within our mind.
And so I wonder, if not here, then does it really matter if and where at all?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology