My Poetry: The Empty Chair

The Empty Chair

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And from nowhere,
the empty chair appears,
its cheap pine veneer
blankly staring.
I was not even thinking
of you or her or them,
but there it is,
a silent reminder
sat neatly opposite
in sullen soundtrack cafe,
as if from nowhere
like a summer storm or
guest house ghost
to remind the eye,
what it does not see
that a solitary coffee
is no substitute
since we said goodbye.