The living room became a staging area.
Items slowly filtered in and then exploded in quantity.
The floor, the chair, the couch all had to bear their packaging burden.
Bags from Target, boxes from Amazon, loose items from drawers and cupboards, each has its place.
Like a summer thunderclap their presence short lived but soon replaced by another wave.
William, then Grace, then Kathryn.
They vanish with their possessions.
By car, by plane, they travel away.
The house now quiet except for Mercury the cat.
Confused by the absence she seeks comfort from me.
A renegotiation with Julie.
Our lives no longer centered on offspring.
Together we grieve our loss.
As night falls I anticipate the dawn of a new day.