Throne Room

I died in this chair.

Returning

only to see the

growing shadows

of dusk

once more,

the rusted mailbox

filled

with letters

from my

child,

a portrait

done over

in

webs…

I leave

no footprints,

no tears

to stir

my ashes

mingled

with

dust

on the

creaking floor.

© Alfred W. Smith Jr.