I look down and see
Nothing.
I turn to look up,
But nothing is here. . . 

Too.

In mid-stair  
I feel trapped and fear 
Everything.
How did I get here? 
I choke back a scream. . . 

Afraid!

Not unlike
The other noontime
Sitting
On a brittle chair 
Ouside on the porch. . . 

Alone! 

Slide down my cheeks
And pool.
Small drops on my hand
Reflecting my pain. . .

Loss!

From that point
I had watched myself
Stumble
Up three narrow steps
Which led to my chair. . .

Empty!

Grief is now
My companion and
Emptiness
My worn threadbare coat
I am, after all. . .

Alone!