The Glass on the Table
A
Glass
Sits still,
Halfway filled,
Or is it half gone?
He stares, silent, uncertain.
Bills,
Job—
Both lost.
Emptiness
Echoes in his chest,
Like the hollow rim of the cup.
Wind
Moans,
Windows
Rattle loud,
Life moves on outside.
Yet he stays frozen in the past.
Then—
Laughs.
Soft hands
Lift the glass,
Tiny fingers grip.
"Daddy, look! There’s water left!"
Eyes
Wide,
She grins,
Full of light,
Brighter than the glass,
Spilling hope where sorrow sat.
Tears
Fall,
Not sad—
Not empty—
But filling anew,
A man reborn in a child's truth.
